#because if I’m basically giving up evenings and part of my weekends for this work

[mostlysignssomeportents]

“Disenshittify or Die”

I'm coming to BURNING MAN! On TUESDAY (Aug 27) at 1PM, I'm giving a talk called "DISENSHITTIFY OR DIE!" at PALENQUE NORTE (7&E). On WEDNESDAY (Aug 28) at NOON, I'm doing a "Talking Caterpillar" Q&A at LIMINAL LABS (830&C).

Last weekend, I traveled to Las Vegas for Defcon 32, where I had the immense privilege of giving a solo talk on Track 1, entitled "Disenshittify or die! How hackers can seize the means of computation and build a new, good internet that is hardened against our asshole bosses' insatiable horniness for enshittification":

https://info.defcon.org/event/?id=54861

This was a followup to last year's talk, "An Audacious Plan to Halt the Internet's Enshittification," a talk that kicked off a lot of international interest in my analysis of platform decay ("enshittification"):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rimtaSgGz_4

The Defcon organizers have earned a restful week or two, and that means that the video of my talk hasn't yet been posted to Defcon's Youtube channel, so in the meantime, I thought I'd post a lightly edited version of my speech crib. If you're headed to Burning Man, you can hear me reprise this talk at Palenque Norte (7&E); I'm kicking off their lecture series on Tuesday, Aug 27 at 1PM.

==

What the fuck happened to the old, good internet?

I mean, sure, our bosses were a little surveillance-happy, and they were usually up for sharing their data with the NSA, and whenever there was a tossup between user security and growth, it was always YOLO time.

But Google Search used to work. Facebook used to show you posts from people you followed. Uber used to be cheaper than a taxi and pay the driver more than a cabbie made. Amazon used to sell products, not Shein-grade self-destructing dropshipped garbage from all-consonant brands. Apple used to defend your privacy, rather than spying on you with your no-modifications-allowed Iphone.

There was a time when you searching for an album on Spotify would get you that album – not a playlist of insipid AI-generated covers with the same name and art.

Microsoft used to sell you software – sure, it was buggy – but now they just let you access apps in the cloud, so they can watch how you use those apps and strip the features you use the most out of the basic tier and turn them into an upcharge.

What – and I cannot stress this enough – the fuck happened?!

I’m talking about enshittification.

Here’s what enshittification looks like from the outside: First, you see a company that’s being good to its end users. Google puts the best search results at the top; Facebook shows you a feed of posts from people and groups you followl; Uber charges small dollars for a cab; Amazon subsidizes goods and returns and shipping and puts the best match for your product search at the top of the page.

That’s stage one, being good to end users. But there’s another part of this stage, call it stage 1a). That’s figuring out how to lock in those users.

There’s so many ways to lock in users.

If you’re Facebook, the users do it for you. You joined Facebook because there were people there you wanted to hang out with, and other people joined Facebook to hang out with you.

That’s the old “network effects” in action, and with network effects come “the collective action problem." Because you love your friends, but goddamn are they a pain in the ass! You all agree that FB sucks, sure, but can you all agree on when it’s time to leave?

No way.

Can you agree on where to go next?

Hell no.

You’re there because that’s where the support group for your rare disease hangs out, and your bestie is there because that’s where they talk with the people in the country they moved away from, then there’s that friend who coordinates their kid’s little league car pools on FB, and the best dungeon master you know isn’t gonna leave FB because that’s where her customers are.

So you’re stuck, because even though FB use comes at a high cost – your privacy, your dignity and your sanity – that’s still less than the switching cost you’d have to bear if you left: namely, all those friends who have taken you hostage, and whom you are holding hostage

Now, sometimes companies lock you in with money, like Amazon getting you to prepay for a year’s shipping with Prime, or to buy your Audible books on a monthly subscription, which virtually guarantees that every shopping search will start on Amazon, after all, you’ve already paid for it.

Sometimes, they lock you in with DRM, like HP selling you a printer with four ink cartridges filled with fluid that retails for more than $10,000/gallon, and using DRM to stop you from refilling any of those ink carts or using a third-party cartridge. So when one cart runs dry, you have to refill it or throw away your investment in the remaining three cartridges and the printer itself.

Sometimes, it’s a grab bag:

You can’t run your Ios apps without Apple hardware;

you can’t run your Apple music, books and movies on anything except an Ios app;

your iPhone uses parts pairing – DRM handshakes between replacement parts and the main system – so you can’t use third-party parts to fix it; and

every OEM iPhone part has a microscopic Apple logo engraved on it, so Apple can demand that the US Customs and Border Service seize any shipment of refurb Iphone parts as trademark violations.

Think Different, amirite?

Getting you locked in completes phase one of the enshittification cycle and signals the start of phase two: making things worse for you to make things better for business customers.

For example, a platform might poison its search results, like Google selling more and more of its results pages to ads that are identified with lighter and lighter tinier and tinier type.

Or Amazon selling off search results and calling it an “ad” business. They make $38b/year on this scam. The first result for your search is, on average, 29% more expensive than the best match for your search. The first row is 25% more expensive than the best match. On average, the best match for your search is likely to be found seventeen places down on the results page.

Other platforms sell off your feed, like Facebook, which started off showing you the things you asked to see, but now the quantum of content from the people you follow has dwindled to a homeopathic residue, leaving a void that Facebook fills with things that people pay to show you: boosted posts from publishers you haven’t subscribed to, and, of course, ads.

Now at this point you might be thinking ‘sure, if you’re not paying for the product, you’re the product.'

Bullshit!

Bull.

Shit.

The people who buy those Google ads? They pay more every year for worse ad-targeting and more ad-fraud

Those publishers paying to nonconsensually cram their content into your Facebook feed? They have to do that because FB suppresses their ability to reach the people who actually subscribed to them

The Amazon sellers with the best match for your query have to outbid everyone else just to show up on the first page of results. It costs so much to sell on Amazon that between 45-51% of every dollar an independent seller brings in has to be kicked up to Don Bezos and the Amazon crime family. Those sellers don’t have the kind of margins that let them pay 51% They have to raise prices in order to avoid losing money on every sale.

"But wait!" I hear you say!

[Come on, say it!]

"But wait! Things on Amazon aren’t more expensive that things at Target, or Walmart, or at a mom and pop store, or direct from the manufacturer.

"How can sellers be raising prices on Amazon if the price at Amazon is the same as at is everywhere else?"

[Any guesses?!]

That’s right, they charge more everywhere. They have to. Amazon binds its sellers to a policy called “most favored nation status,” which says they can’t charge more on Amazon than they charge elsewhere, including direct from their own factory store.

So every seller that wants to sell on Amazon has to raise their prices everywhere else.

Now, these sellers are Amazon’s best customers. They’re paying for the product, and they’re still getting screwed.

Paying for the product doesn’t fill your vapid boss’s shriveled heart with so much joy that he decides to stop trying to think of ways to fuck you over.

Look at Apple. Remember when Apple offered every Ios user a one-click opt out for app-based surveillance? And 96% of users clicked that box?

(The other four percent were either drunk or Facebook employees or drunk Facebook employees.)

That cost Facebook at least ten billion dollars per year in lost surveillance revenue?

I mean, you love to see it.

But did you know that at the same time Apple started spying on Ios users in the same way that Facebook had been, for surveillance data to use to target users for its competing advertising product?

Your Iphone isn’t an ad-supported gimme. You paid a thousand fucking dollars for that distraction rectangle in your pocket, and you’re still the product. What’s more, Apple has rigged Ios so that you can’t mod the OS to block its spying.

If you’re not not paying for the product, you’re the product, and if you are paying for the product, you’re still the product.

Just ask the farmers who are expected to swap parts into their own busted half-million dollar, mission-critical tractors, but can’t actually use those parts until a technician charges them $200 to drive out to the farm and type a parts pairing unlock code into their console.

John Deere’s not giving away tractors. Give John Deere a half mil for a tractor and you will be the product.

Please, my brothers and sisters in Christ. Please! Stop saying ‘if you’re not paying for the product, you’re the product.’

OK, OK, so that’s phase two of enshittification.

Phase one: be good to users while locking them in.

Phase two: screw the users a little to you can good to business customers while locking them in.

Phase three: screw everybody and take all the value for yourself. Leave behind the absolute bare minimum of utility so that everyone stays locked into your pile of shit.

Enshittification: a tragedy in three acts.

That’s what enshittification looks like from the outside, but what’s going on inside the company? What is the pathological mechanism? What sci-fi entropy ray converts the excellent and useful service into a pile of shit?

That mechanism is called twiddling. Twiddling is when someone alters the back end of a service to change how its business operates, changing prices, costs, search ranking, recommendation criteria and other foundational aspects of the system.

Digital platforms are a twiddler’s utopia. A grocer would need an army of teenagers with pricing guns on rollerblades to reprice everything in the building when someone arrives who’s extra hungry.

Whereas the McDonald’s Investments portfolio company Plexure advertises that it can use surveillance data to predict when an app user has just gotten paid so the seller can tack an extra couple bucks onto the price of their breakfast sandwich.

And of course, as the prophet William Gibson warned us, ‘cyberspace is everting.' With digital shelf tags, grocers can change prices whenever they feel like, like the grocers in Norway, whose e-ink shelf tags change the prices 2,000 times per day.

Every Uber driver is offered a different wage for every job. If a driver has been picky lately, the job pays more. But if the driver has been desperate enough to grab every ride the app offers, the pay goes down, and down, and down.

The law professor Veena Dubal calls this ‘algorithmic wage discrimination.' It’s a prime example of twiddling.

Every youtuber knows what it’s like to be twiddled. You work for weeks or months, spend thousands of dollars to make a video, then the algorithm decides that no one – not your own subscribers, not searchers who type in the exact name of your video – will see it.

Why? Who knows? The algorithm’s rules are not public.

Because content moderation is the last redoubt of security through obscurit: they can’t tell you what the como algorithm is downranking because then you’d cheat.

Youtube is the kind of shitty boss who docks every paycheck for all the rules you’ve broken, but won’t tell you what those rules were, lest you figure out how to break those rules next time without your boss catching you.

Twiddling can also work in some users’ favor, of course. Sometimes platforms twiddle to make things better for end users or business customers.

For example, Emily Baker-White from Forbes revealed the existence of a back-end feature that Tiktok’s management can access they call the “heating tool.”

When a manager applies the heating toll to a performer’s account, that performer’s videos are thrust into the feeds of millions of users, without regard to whether the recommendation algorithm predicts they will enjoy that video.

Why would they do this? Well, here’s an analogy from my boyhood I used to go to this traveling fair that would come to Toronto at the end of every summer, the Canadian National Exhibition. If you’ve been to a fair like the Ex, you know that you can always spot some guy lugging around a comedically huge teddy bear.

Nominally, you win that teddy bear by throwing five balls in a peach-basket, but to a first approximation, no one has ever gotten five balls to stay in that peach-basket.

That guy “won” the teddy bear when a carny on the midway singled him out and said, "fella, I like your face. Tell you what I’m gonna do: You get just one ball in the basket and I’ll give you this keychain, and if you amass two keychains, I’ll let you trade them in for one of these galactic-scale teddy-bears."

That’s how the guy got his teddy bear, which he now has to drag up and down the midway for the rest of the day.

Why the hell did that carny give away the teddy bear? Because it turns the guy into a walking billboard for the midway games. If that dopey-looking Judas Goat can get five balls into a peach basket, then so can you.

Except you can’t.

Tiktok’s heating tool is a way to give away tactical giant teddy bears. When someone in the TikTok brain trust decides they need more sports bros on the platform, they pick one bro out at random and make him king for the day, heating the shit out of his account.

That guy gets a bazillion views and he starts running around on all the sports bro forums trumpeting his success: *I am the Louis Pasteur of sports bro influencers!"

The other sports bros pile in and start retooling to make content that conforms to the idiosyncratic Tiktok format. When they fail to get giant teddy bears of their own, they assume that it’s because they’re doing Tiktok wrong, because they don’t know about the heating tool.

But then comes the day when the TikTok Star Chamber decides they need to lure in more astrologers, so they take the heat off that one lucky sports bro, and start heating up some lucky astrologer.

Giant teddy bears are all over the place: those Uber drivers who were boasting to the NYT ten years ago about earning $50/hour? The Substackers who were rolling in dough? Joe Rogan and his hundred million dollar Spotify payout? Those people are all the proud owners of giant teddy bears, and they’re a steal.

Because every dollar they get from the platform turns into five dollars worth of free labor from suckers who think they just internetting wrong.

Giant teddy bears are just one way of twiddling. Platforms can play games with every part of their business logic, in highly automated ways, that allows them to quickly and efficiently siphon value from end users to business customers and back again, hiding the pea in a shell game conducted at machine speeds, until they’ve got everyone so turned around that they take all the value for themselves.

That’s the how: How the platforms do the trick where they are good to users, then lock users in, then maltreat users to be good to business customers, then lock in those business customers, then take all the value for themselves.

So now we know what is happening, and how it is happening, all that’s left is why it’s happening.

Now, on the one hand, the why is pretty obvious. The less value that end-users and business customers capture, the more value there is left to divide up among the shareholders and the executives.

That’s why, but it doesn’t tell you why now. Companies could have done this shit at any time in the past 20 years, but they didn’t. Or at least, the successful ones didn’t. The ones that turned themselves into piles of shit got treated like piles of shit. We avoided them and they died.

Remember Myspace? Yahoo Search? Livejournal? Sure, they’re still serving some kind of AI slop or programmatic ad junk if you hit those domains, but they’re gone.

And there’s the clue: It used to be that if you enshittified your product, bad things happened to your company. Now, there are no consequences for enshittification, so everyone’s doing it.

Let’s break that down: What stops a company from enshittifying?

There are four forces that discipline tech companies. The first one is, obviously, competition.

If your customers find it easy to leave, then you have to worry about them leaving

Many factors can contribute to how hard or easy it is to depart a platform, like the network effects that Facebook has going for it. But the most important factor is whether there is anywhere to go.

Back in 2012, Facebook bought Insta for a billion dollars. That may seem like chump-change in these days of eleven-digit Big Tech acquisitions, but that was a big sum in those innocent days, and it was an especially big sum to pay for Insta. The company only had 13 employees, and a mere 25 million registered users.

But what mattered to Zuckerberg wasn’t how many users Insta had, it was where those users came from.

[Does anyone know where those Insta users came from?]

That’s right, they left Facebook and joined Insta. They were sick of FB, even though they liked the people there, they hated creepy Zuck, they hated the platform, so they left and they didn’t come back.

So Zuck spent a cool billion to recapture them, A fact he put in writing in a midnight email to CFO David Ebersman, explaining that he was paying over the odds for Insta because his users hated him, and loved Insta. So even if they quit Facebook (the platform), they would still be captured Facebook (the company).

Now, on paper, Zuck’s Instagram acquisition is illegal, but normally, that would be hard to stop, because you’d have to prove that he bought Insta with the intention of curtailing competition.

But in this case, Zuck tripped over his own dick: he put it in writing.

But Obama’s DoJ and FTC just let that one slide, following the pro-monopoly policies of Reagan, Bush I, Clinton and Bush II, and setting an example that Trump would follow, greenlighting gigamergers like the catastrophic, incestuous Warner-Discovery marriage.

Indeed, for 40 years, starting with Carter, and accelerating through Reagan, the US has encouraged monopoly formation, as an official policy, on the grounds that monopolies are “efficient.”

If everyone is using Google Search, that’s something we should celebrate. It means they’ve got the very best search and wouldn’t it be perverse to spend public funds to punish them for making the best product?

But as we all know, Google didn’t maintain search dominance by being best. They did it by paying bribes. More than 20 billion per year to Apple alone to be the default Ios search, plus billions more to Samsung, Mozilla, and anyone else making a product or service with a search-box on it, ensuring that you never stumble on a search engine that’s better than theirs.

Which, in turn, ensured that no one smart invested big in rival search engines, even if they were visibly, obviously superior. Why bother making something better if Google’s buying up all the market oxygen before it can kindle your product to life?

Facebook, Google, Microsoft, Amazon – they’re not “making things” companies, they’re “buying things” companies, taking advantage of official tolerance for anticompetitive acquisitions, predatory pricing, market distorting exclusivity deals and other acts specifically prohibited by existing antitrust law.

Their goal is to become too big to fail, because that makes them too big to jail, and that means they can be too big to care.

Which is why Google Search is a pile of shit and everything on Amazon is dropshipped garbage that instantly disintegrates in a cloud of offgassed volatile organic compounds when you open the box.

Once companies no longer fear losing your business to a competitor, it’s much easier for them to treat you badly, because what’re you gonna do?

Remember Lily Tomlin as Ernestine the AT&T operator in those old SNL sketches? “We don’t care. We don’t have to. We’re the phone company.”

Competition is the first force that serves to discipline companies and the enshittificatory impulses of their leadership, and we just stopped enforcing competition law.

It takes a special kind of smooth-brained asshole – that is, an establishment economist – to insist that the collapse of every industry from eyeglasses to vitamin C into a cartel of five or fewer companies has nothing to do with policies that officially encouraged monopolization.

It’s like we used to put down rat poison and we didn’t have a rat problem. Then these dickheads convinced us that rats were good for us and we stopped putting down rat poison, and now rats are gnawing our faces off and they’re all running around saying, "Who’s to say where all these rats came from? Maybe it was that we stopped putting down poison, but maybe it’s just the Time of the Rats. The Great Forces of History bearing down on this moment to multiply rats beyond all measure!"

Antitrust didn’t slip down that staircase and fall spine-first on that stiletto: they stabbed it in the back and then they pushed it.

And when they killed antitrust, they also killed regulation, the second force that disciplines companies. Regulation is possible, but only when the regulator is more powerful than the regulated entities. When a company is bigger than the government, it gets damned hard to credibly threaten to punish that company, no matter what its sins.

That’s what protected IBM for all those years when it had its boot on the throat of the American tech sector. Do you know, the DOJ fought to break up IBM in the courts from 1970-1982, and that every year, for 12 consecutive years, IBM spent more on lawyers to fight the USG than the DOJ Antitrust Division spent on all the lawyers fighting every antitrust case in the entire USA?

IBM outspent Uncle Sam for 12 years. People called it “Antitrust’s Vietnam.” All that money paid off, because by 1982, the president was Ronald Reagan, a man whose official policy was that monopolies were “efficient." So he dropped the case, and Big Blue wriggled off the hook.

It’s hard to regulate a monopolist, and it’s hard to regulate a cartel. When a sector is composed of hundreds of competing companies, they compete. They genuinely fight with one another, trying to poach each others’ customers and workers. They are at each others’ throats.

It’s hard enough for a couple hundred executives to agree on anything. But when they’re legitimately competing with one another, really obsessing about how to eat each others’ lunches, they can’t agree on anything.

The instant one of them goes to their regulator with some bullshit story, about how it’s impossible to have a decent search engine without fine-grained commercial surveillance; or how it’s impossible to have a secure and easy to use mobile device without a total veto over which software can run on it; or how it’s impossible to administer an ISP’s network unless you can slow down connections to servers whose owners aren’t paying bribes for “premium carriage"; there’s some *other company saying, “That’s bullshit”

“We’ve managed it! Here’s our server logs, our quarterly financials and our customer testimonials to prove it.”

100 companies are a rabble, they're a mob. They can’t agree on a lobbying position. They’re too busy eating each others’ lunch to agree on how to cater a meeting to discuss it.

But let those hundred companies merge to monopoly, absorb one another in an incestuous orgy, turn into five giant companies, so inbred they’ve got a corporate Habsburg jaw, and they become a cartel.

It’s easy for a cartel to agree on what bullshit they’re all going to feed their regulator, and to mobilize some of the excess billions they’ve reaped through consolidation, which freed them from “wasteful competition," sp they can capture their regulators completely.

You know, Congress used to pass federal consumer privacy laws? Not anymore.

The last time Congress managed to pass a federal consumer privacy law was in 1988: The Video Privacy Protection Act. That’s a law that bans video-store clerks from telling newspapers what VHS cassettes you take home. In other words, it regulates three things that have effectively ceased to exist.

The threat of having your video rental history out there in the public eye was not the last or most urgent threat the American public faced, and yet, Congress is deadlocked on passing a privacy law.

Tech companies’ regulatory capture involves a risible and transparent gambit, that is so stupid, it’s an insult to all the good hardworking risible transparent ruses out there.

Namely, they claim that when they violate your consumer, privacy or labor rights, It’s not a crime, because they do it with an app.

Algorithmic wage discrimination isn’t illegal wage theft: we do it with an app.

Spying on you from asshole to appetite isn’t a privacy violation: we do it with an app.

And Amazon’s scam search tool that tricks you into paying 29% more than the best match for your query? Not a ripoff. We do it with an app.

Once we killed competition – stopped putting down rat poison – we got cartels – the rats ate our faces. And the cartels captured their regulators – the rats bought out the poison factory and shut it down.

So companies aren’t constrained by competition or regulation.

But you know what? This is tech, and tech is different.IIt’s different because it’s flexible. Because our computers are Turing-complete universal von Neumann machines. That means that any enshittificatory alteration to a program can be disenshittified with another program.

Every time HP jacks up the price of ink , they invite a competitor to market a refill kit or a compatible cartridge.

When Tesla installs code that says you have to pay an extra monthly fee to use your whole battery, they invite a modder to start selling a kit to jailbreak that battery and charge it all the way up.

Lemme take you through a little example of how that works: Imagine this is a product design meeting for our company’s website, and the guy leading the meeting says “Dudes, you know how our KPI is topline ad-revenue? Well, I’ve calculated that if we make the ads just 20% more invasive and obnoxious, we’ll boost ad rev by 2%”

This is a good pitch. Hit that KPI and everyone gets a fat bonus. We can all take our families on a luxury ski vacation in Switzerland.

But here’s the thing: someone’s gonna stick their arm up – someone who doesn’t give a shit about user well-being, and that person is gonna say, “I love how you think, Elon. But has it occurred to you that if we make the ads 20% more obnoxious, then 40% of our users will go to a search engine and type 'How do I block ads?'"

I mean, what a nightmare! Because once a user does that, the revenue from that user doesn’t rise to 102%. It doesn’t stay at 100% It falls to zero, forever.

[Any guesses why?]

Because no user ever went back to the search engine and typed, 'How do I start seeing ads again?'

Once the user jailbreaks their phone or discovers third party ink, or develops a relationship with an independent Tesla mechanic who’ll unlock all the DLC in their car, that user is gone, forever.

Interoperability – that latent property bequeathed to us courtesy of Herrs Turing and Von Neumann and their infinitely flexible, universal machines – that is a serious check on enshittification.

The fact that Congress hasn’t passed a privacy law since 1988 Is countered, at least in part, by the fact that the majority of web users are now running ad-blockers, which are also tracker-blockers.

But no one’s ever installed a tracker-blocker for an app. Because reverse engineering an app puts in you jeopardy of criminal and civil prosecution under Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, with penalties of a 5-year prison sentence and a $500k fine for a first offense.

And violating its terms of service puts you in jeopardy under the Computer Fraud and Abuse Act of 1986, which is the law that Ronald Reagan signed in a panic after watching Wargames (seriously!).

Helping other users violate the terms of service can get you hit with a lawsuit for tortious interference with contract. And then there’s trademark, copyright and patent.

All that nonsense we call “IP,” but which Jay Freeman of Cydia calls “Felony Contempt of Business Model."

So if we’re still at that product planning meeting and now it’s time to talk about our app, the guy leading the meeting says, “OK, so we’ll make the ads in the app 20% more obnoxious to pull a 2% increase in topline ad rev?”

And that person who objected to making the website 20% worse? Their hand goes back up. Only this time they say “Why don’t we make the ads 100% more invasive and get a 10% increase in ad rev?"

Because it doesn't matter if a user goes to a search engine and types, “How do I block ads in an app." The answer is: you can't. So YOLO, enshittify away.

“IP” is just a euphemism for “any law that lets me reach outside my company’s walls to exert coercive control over my critics, competitors and customers,” and “app” is just a euphemism for “A web page skinned with the right IP so that protecting your privacy while you use it is a felony.”

Interop used to keep companies from enshittifying. If a company made its client suck, someone would roll out an alternative client, if they ripped a feature out and wanted to sell it back to you as a monthly subscription, someone would make a compatible plugin that restored it for a one-time fee, or for free.

To help people flee Myspace, FB gave them bots that you’d load with your login credentials. It would scrape your waiting Myspace messages and put ‘em in your FB inbox, and login to Myspace and paste your replies into your Myspace outbox. So you didn’t have to choose between the people you loved on Myspace, and Facebook, which launched with a promise never to spy on you. Remember that?!

Thanks to the metastasis of IP, all that is off the table today. Apple owes its very existence to iWork Suite, whose Pages, Numbers and Keynote are file-compatible with Microsoft’s Word, Excel and Powerpoint. But make an IOS runtime that’ll play back the files you bought from Apple’s stores on other platforms, and they’ll nuke you til you glow.

FB wouldn’t have had a hope of breaking Myspace’s grip on social media without that scrape, but scrape FB today in support of an alternative client and their lawyers will bomb you til the rubble bounces.

Google scraped every website in the world to create its search index. Try and scrape Google and they’ll have your head on a pike.

When they did it, it was progress. When you do it to them, that’s piracy. Every pirate wants to be an admiral.

Because this handful of companies has so thoroughly captured their regulators, they can wield the power of the state against you when you try to break their grip on power, even as their own flagrant violations of our rights go unpunished. Because they do them with an app.

Tech lost its fear of competitin it neutralized the threat from regulators, and then put them in harness to attack new startups that might do unto them as they did unto the companies that came before them.

But even so, there was a force that kept our bosses in check That force was us. Tech workers.

Tech workers have historically been in short supply, which gave us power, and our bosses knew it.

To get us to work crazy hours, they came up with a trick. They appealed to our love of technology, and told us that we were heroes of a digital revolution, who would “organize the world’s information and make it useful,” who would “bring the world closer together.”

They brought in expert set-dressers to turn our workplaces into whimsical campuses with free laundry, gourmet cafeterias, massages, and kombucha, and a surgeon on hand to freeze our eggs so that we could work through our fertile years.

They convinced us that we were being pampered, rather than being worked like government mules.

This trick has a name. Fobazi Ettarh, the librarian-theorist, calls it “vocational awe, and Elon Musk calls it being “extremely hardcore.”

This worked very well. Boy did we put in some long-ass hours!

But for our bosses, this trick failed badly. Because if you miss your mother’s funeral and to hit a deadline, and then your boss orders you to enshittify that product, you are gonna experience a profound moral injury, which you are absolutely gonna make your boss share.

Because what are they gonna do? Fire you? They can’t hire someone else to do your job, and you can get a job that’s even better at the shop across the street.

So workers held the line when competition, regulation and interop failed.

But eventually, supply caught up with demand. Tech laid off 260,000 of us last year, and another 100,000 in the first half of this year.

You can’t tell your bosses to go fuck themselves, because they’ll fire your ass and give your job to someone who’ll be only too happy to enshittify that product you built.

That’s why this is all happening right now. Our bosses aren’t different. They didn’t catch a mind-virus that turned them into greedy assholes who don’t care about our users’ wellbeing or the quality of our products.

As far as our bosses have always been concerned, the point of the business was to charge the most, and deliver the least, while sharing as little as possible with suppliers, workers, users and customers. They’re not running charities.

Since day one, our bosses have shown up for work and yanked as hard as they can on the big ENSHITTIFICATION lever behind their desks, only that lever didn’t move much. It was all gummed up by competition, regulation, interop and workers.

As those sources of friction melted away, the enshittification lever started moving very freely.

Which sucks, I know. But think about this for a sec: our bosses, despite being wildly imperfect vessels capable of rationalizing endless greed and cheating, nevertheless oversaw a series of actually great products and services.

Not because they used to be better people, but because they used to be subjected to discipline.

So it follows that if we want to end the enshittocene, dismantle the enshitternet, and build a new, good internet that our bosses can’t wreck, we need to make sure that these constraints are durably installed on that internet, wound around its very roots and nerves. And we have to stand guard over it so that it can’t be dismantled again.

A new, good internet is one that has the positive aspects of the old, good internet: an ethic of technological self-determination, where users of technology (and hackers, tinkerers, startups and others serving as their proxies) can reconfigure and mod the technology they use, so that it does what they need it to do, and so that it can’t be used against them.

But the new, good internet will fix the defects of the old, good internet, the part that made it hard to use for anyone who wasn’t us. And hell yeah we can do that. Tech bosses swear that it’s impossible, that you can’t have a conversation friend without sharing it with Zuck; or search the web without letting Google scrape you down to the viscera; or have a phone that works reliably without giving Apple a veto over the software you install.

They claim that it’s a nonsense to even ponder this kind of thing. It’s like making water that’s not wet. But that’s bullshit. We can have nice things. We can build for the people we love, and give them a place that’s worth of their time and attention.

To do that, we have to install constraints.

The first constraint, remember, is competition. We’re living through a epochal shift in competition policy. After 40 years with antitrust enforcement in an induced coma, a wave of antitrust vigor has swept through governments all over the world. Regulators are stepping in to ban monopolistic practices, open up walled gardens, block anticompetitive mergers, and even unwind corrupt mergers that were undertaken on false pretenses.

Normally this is the place in the speech where I’d list out all the amazing things that have happened over the past four years. The enforcement actions that blocked companies from becoming too big to care, and that scared companies away from even trying.

Like Wiz, which just noped out of the largest acquisition offer in history, turning down Google’s $23b cashout, and deciding to, you know, just be a fucking business that makes money by producing a product that people want and selling it at a competitive price.

Normally, I’d be listing out FTC rulemakings that banned noncompetes nationwid. Or the new merger guidelines the FTC and DOJ cooked up, which – among other things – establish that the agencies should be considering whether a merger will negatively impact privacy.

I had a whole section of this stuff in my notes, a real victory lap, but I deleted it all this week.

[Can anyone guess why?]

That’s right! This week, Judge Amit Mehta, ruling for the DC Circuit of these United States of America, In the docket 20-3010 a case known as United States v. Google LLC, found that “Google is a monopolist, and it has acted as one to maintain its monopoly," and ordered Google and the DOJ to propose a schedule for a remedy, like breaking the company up.

So yeah, that was pretty fucking epic.

Now, this antitrust stuff is pretty esoteric, and I won’t gatekeep you or shame you if you wanna keep a little distance on this subject. Nearly everyone is an antitrust normie, and that's OK. But if you’re a normie, you’re probably only catching little bits and pieces of the narrative, and let me tell you, the monopolists know it and they are flooding the zone.

The Wall Street Journal has published over 100 editorials condemning FTC Chair Lina Khan, saying she’s an ineffectual do-nothing, wasting public funds chasing doomed, quixotic adventures against poor, innocent businesses accomplishing nothing

[Does anyone out there know who owns the Wall Street Journal?]

That’s right, it’s Rupert Murdoch. Do you really think Rupert Murdoch pays his editorial board to write one hundred editorials about someone who’s not getting anything done?

The reality is that in the USA, in the UK, in the EU, in Australia, in Canada, in Japan, in South Korea, even in China, we are seeing more antitrust action over the past four years than over the preceding forty years.

Remember, competition law is actually pretty robust. The problem isn’t the law, It’s the enforcement priorities. Reagan put antitrust in mothballs 40 years ago, but that elegant weapon from a more civilized age is now back in the hands of people who know how to use it, and they’re swinging for the fences.

Next up: regulation.

As the seemingly inescapable power of the tech giants is revealed for the sham it always was, governments and regulators are finally gonna kill the “one weird trick” of violating the law, and saying “It doesn’t count, we did it with an app.”

Like in the EU, they’re rolling out the Digital Markets Act this year. That’s a law requiring dominant platforms to stand up APIs so that third parties can offer interoperable services.

So a co-op, a nonprofit, a hobbyist, a startup, or a local government agency wil eventuallyl be able to offer, say, a social media server that can interconnect with one of the dominant social media silos, and users who switch to that new platform will be able to continue to exchange messages with the users they follow and groups they belong to, so the switching costs will fall to damned near zero.

That’s a very cool rule, but what’s even cooler is how it’s gonna be enforced. Previous EU tech rules were “regulations” as in the GDPR – the General Data Privacy Regulation. EU regs need to be “transposed” into laws in each of the 27 EU member states, so they become national laws that get enforced by national courts.

For Big Tech, that means all previous tech regulations are enforced in Ireland, because Ireland is a tax haven, and all the tech companies fly Irish flags of convenience.

Here’s the thing: every tax haven is also a crime haven. After all, if Google can pretend it’s Irish this week, it can pretend to be Cypriot, or Maltese, or Luxembougeious next week. So Ireland has to keep these footloose criminal enterprises happy, or they’ll up sticks and go somewhere else.

This is why the GDPR is such a goddamned joke in practice. Big tech wipes its ass with the GDPR, and the only way to punish them starts with Ireland’s privacy commissioner, who barely bothers to get out of bed. This is an agency that spends most of its time watching cartoons on TV in its pajamas and eating breakfast cereal. So all of the big GDPR cases go to Ireland and they die there.

This is hardly a secret. The European Commission knows it’s going on. So with the DMA, the Commission has changed things up: The DMA is an “Act,” not a “Regulation.” Meaning it gets enforced in the EU’s federal courts, bypassing the national courts in crime-havens like Ireland.

In other words, the “we violate privacy law, but we do it with an app” gambit that worked on Ireland’s toothless privacy watchdog is now a dead letter, because EU federal judges have no reason to swallow that obvious bullshit.

Here in the US, the dam is breaking on federal consumer privacy law – at last!

Remember, our last privacy law was passed in 1988 to protect the sanctity of VHS rental history. It's been a minute.

And the thing is, there's a lot of people who are angry about stuff that has some nexus with America's piss-poor privacy landscape. Worried that Facebook turned grampy into a Qanon? That Insta made your teen anorexic? That TikTok is brainwashing millennials into quoting Osama Bin Laden? Or that cops are rolling up the identities of everyone at a Black Lives Matter protest or the Jan 6 riots by getting location data from Google? Or that Red State Attorneys General are tracking teen girls to out-of-state abortion clinics? Or that Black people are being discriminated against by online lending or hiring platforms? Or that someone is making AI deepfake porn of you?

A federal privacy law with a private right of action – which means that individuals can sue companies that violate their privacy – would go a long way to rectifying all of these problems

There's a pretty big coalition for that kind of privacy law! Which is why we have seen a procession of imperfect (but steadily improving) privacy laws working their way through Congress.

If you sign up for EFF’s mailing list at eff.org we’ll send you an email when these come up, so you can call your Congressjerk or Senator and talk to them about it. Or better yet, make an appointment to drop by their offices when they’re in their districts, and explain to them that you’re not just a registered voter from their district, you’re the kind of elite tech person who goes to Defcon, and then explain the bill to them. That stuff makes a difference.

What about self-help? How are we doing on making interoperability legal again, so hackers can just fix shit without waiting for Congress or a federal agency to act?

All the action here these day is in the state Right to Repair fight. We’re getting state R2R bills, like the one that passed this year in Oregon that bans parts pairing, where DRM is used to keep a device from using a new part until it gets an authorized technician’s unlock code.

These bills are pushed by a fantastic group of organizations called the Repair Coalition, at Repair.org, and they’ll email you when one of these laws is going through your statehouse, so you can meet with your state reps and explain to the JV squad the same thing you told your federal reps.

Repair.org’s prime mover is Ifixit, who are genuine heroes of the repair revolution, and Ifixit’s founder, Kyle Wiens, is here at the con. When you see him, you can shake his hand and tell him thanks, and that’ll be even better if you tell him that you’ve signed up to get alerts at repair.org!

Now, on to the final way that we reverse enhittification and build that new, good internet: you, the tech labor force.

For years, your bosses tricked you into thinking you were founders in waiting, temporarily embarrassed entrepreneurs who were only momentarily drawing a salary.

You certainly weren’t workers. Your power came from your intrinsic virtue, not like those lazy slobs in unions who have to get their power through that kumbaya solidarity nonsense.

It was a trick. You were scammed. The power you had came from scarcity, and so when the scarcity ended, when the industry started ringing up six-figure annual layoffs, your power went away with it.

The only durable source of power for tech workers is as workers, in a union.

Think about Amazon. Warehouse workers have to piss in bottles and have the highest rate of on-the-job maimings of any competing business. Whereas Amazon coders get to show up for work with facial piercings, green mohawks, and black t-shirts that say things their bosses don’t understand. They can piss whenever they want!

That’s not because Jeff Bezos or Andy Jassy loves you guys. It’s because they’re scared you’ll quit and they don’t know how to replace you.

Time for the second obligatory William Gibson quote: “The future is here, it’s just not evenly distributed.” You know who’s living in the future?. Those Amazon blue-collar workers. They are the bleeding edge.

Drivers whose eyeballs are monitored by AI cameras that do digital phrenology on their faces to figure out whether to dock their pay, warehouse workers whose bodies are ruined in just months.

As tech bosses beef up that reserve army of unemployed, skilled tech workers, then those tech workers – you all – will arrive at the same future as them.

Look, I know that you’ve spent your careers explaining in words so small your boss could understand them that you refuse to enshittify the company’s products, and I thank you for your service.

But if you want to go on fighting for the user, you need power that’s more durable than scarcity. You need a union. Wanna learn how? Check out the Tech Workers Coalition and Tech Solidarity, and get organized.

Enshittification didn’t arise because our bosses changed. They were always that guy.

They were always yankin’ on that enshittification lever in the C-suite.

What changed was the environment, everything that kept that switch from moving.

And that’s good news, in a bankshot way, because it means we can make good services out of imperfect people. As a wildly imperfect person myself, I find this heartening.

The new good internet is in our grasp: an internet that has the technological self-determination of the old, good internet, and the greased-skids simplicity of Web 2.0 that let all our normie friends get in on the fun.

Tech bosses want you to think that good UX and enshittification can’t ever be separated. That’s such a self-serving proposition you can spot it from orbit. We know it, 'cause we built the old good internet, and we’ve been fighting a rear-guard action to preserve it for the past two decades.

It’s time to stop playing defense. It's time to go on the offensive. To restore competition, regulation, interop and tech worker power so that we can create the new, good internet we’ll need to fight fascism, the climate emergency, and genocide.

To build a digital nervous system for a 21st century in which our children can thrive and prosper.

Community voting for SXSW is live! If you wanna hear RIDA QADRI and me talk about how GIG WORKERS can DISENSHITTIFY their jobs with INTEROPERABILITY, VOTE FOR THIS ONE!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/17/hack-the-planet/#how-about-a-nice-game-of-chess

Image: https://twitter.com/igama/status/1822347578094043435/ (cropped)

@fak3r@mastodon.social (cropped)

https://mamot.fr/@fak3r@mastodon.social/112963252835869648

CC BY 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed.pt

[ja3yun]

Undercover Lover | P.JS

detective!jay x detective fem!reader

warnings: smut (mdni), !!rough!!, choking, throat fucking, tit slapping, pure filth, , jay gets like super angry (but he's secretly a sweet soul), swearing, slight mention of alcohol, not proofread.

wc: 9k+

synopsis: you've been forced to work with your work rival, park jongseong, on a case that could bust one of the biggest dealer in seoul, but things don't go according to plan.

(part 2)

a/n: hi! it's me, just giving you a little something while you wait for the sunghoon fic <3 this was originally part of a bigger plot but i didn't finish writing it. Also, if you've ever seen Just Go With It, the dinner scene might be a little familiar since i based it very loosely on it. i hope you like it, it's a bit rough and isn't the best well written because you know i thrive on lovey dovey simp men, regardless, enjoy!

“I cannot believe I got stuck with you on the assignment”

“Feeling is fucking mutual, Park.” 

When your boss told you’d be working with Park Jongseong you protested to the high heavens, and you downright refused when he told you that you would have to pretend to be his wife.

“Absolutely not.” you crossed your arms in a huff, not even sparing a glance at either of the men in the room.

Heeseung groans loudly, “Listen, don’t give me shit okay, I already had it from him,” He points to Jongseong who is leaning casually on the office door, as if barricading you from an easy escape, “You’re the only female on the squad that isn’t on a major assignment right now.” 

“Why can’t he just do it himself?” You ask.

“Trust me, sweetheart, I’m not buzzed about this either but Kim Kwangmin invited me and my ‘wife’ to a private dinner and overnight stay, and in case you haven’t noticed I haven’t got one of those.” Jongseong pushes himself from the wall as he speaks to you.

Jongseong is undercover to do a massive drug bust that won’t only take down one of the biggest suppliers and dealers in Seoul but also get your department a massive boost in funding and recognition. It was a big deal to your boss and the whole department. You just had to work with your biggest rival in the precinct. 

“Just tell them your ‘wife’ is sick.” You claw to find any excuse not to do this. It wasn’t just pretending to be his wife but the scenario in which you have to; you can’t possibly sit in his company and pretend to be in love with him for a whole dinner.

“It’s either that or I'll suspend you,” Heeseung warns.

“Hee, you can’t do that! It’s unjust suspension.” You proclaim, standing up.

“Yeah, and I’ll file the paperwork,” Heeseung stands to mirror your challenging stance, “You will be Jongseong’s wife. End of story.”

So here you are in his hired car as he drives you to the hotel in the middle of nowhere. In a way, you understand why they basically forced you to do this, the payout would be phenomenal, but you still grudge it.

The drive up has been anything but pleasant. You and Jongseong can’t agree on anything, not even the radio station, so you’ve been in silence for 3 hours, only barking out judgments of his driving or telling him how awful the idea is.

Pulling up to the hotel you stare in awe, it’s a whole different level than you’re used to, the tall white building that looks more like a castle beats every Premier Inn or Motel 6 you’ve been forced to occupy. Despite not seeing the inside, you can already guess the marble detailing and artwork on the ceilings, like something out of a princess movie. 

You’re too busy gawking to realise the car has come to a halt and Jongseong is stepping out of the car, the only thing that alerts you is the unnecessarily loud bang as he slams the door shut behind him. 

Opening the passenger door, you walk around the car to meet him as he flips open the boot to take your suitcase out. Inside, you had everything you’d need for 2 nights: dinner dresses, heels, pyjamas, guns, and handcuffs - all the necessities for a weekend away with your ‘husband’.

Jongseong pulls out your case with one hand and examines it, looking at you quizzically. You don’t understand what he’s so puzzled about, it’s just a suitcase, “What?” you finally ask since he won’t give it to you.

“It’s fluorescent pink…with fucking daisies on it.” His eyes are ridiculing as he looks between you and the case. 

“So what?” You nab it from his grip and wipe it down. A few years ago you had seen the suitcase in a shop window and instantly fell in love with it and had to have it, no matter the cost. Petunia has never left your side since, and being on this assignment wasn’t going to change that.

“You’re supposed to be my wife, not my daughter,” he snarks, pointing dramatically to the semi-childish suitcase, “We are going to meet with the most powerful drug lord in all of Seoul and you’re carrying around a Dora the Explorer bag.” 

You take offence, of course, you would, how dare he compare Petunia to a children's cartoon backpack, “Don’t speak about her like that, she’s got feelings.” 

Jongseong’s face deadpans as you stomp away. He quickly retrieves his own luggage and locks his car before chasing after you. Opposite to your luggage, his is a sleek, black metallic case, that matches his personality - cold and hard. Somehow, your suitcases said everything about each of you.

“You aren’t seriously upset are you?” He asks, pulling you back before you get to the main door, “Look, you can’t fucking blow this for me, okay? I’ve spent months on this case and if we aren’t on the same page, he’ll guess something is up.” 

You want to slap him right now because his tone is so condescending, it’s infuriating, “Apologise.” You face him, eyes tough as they look into his pupils.

Jongseong groans and almost throws a tantrum. Grabbing your arm he takes you to the side, all too well aware how anyone could see you two bickering. He didn’t need this to be the reason he lost this assignment, “Fuck, look, I’m sorry for slagging off your suitcase, okay?” 

But you don’t budge, eyebrows lifted expectantly. Your eyes point down to the pink case, “Don’t apologise to me, apologise to Petunia.”

“Petu-, what the fuck are you talking about, Y/N? I am not saying sorry to a fucking case.” He is going red in the face, frustration coursing through his veins. “Are you really going to be that childish right now?”

You stand your ground, waiting for him. He runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek, hands on his waist once he comes to understand you are not going to let it up. He is going to have to apologise to an inanimate object if he wants to proceed with the weekend, “If I say sorry to…Petunia…will you please start cooperating with me?” As you nod, he sighs, rubbing his hand over his face, “Okay, I am really sorry Petunia, I think you’re a lovely suitcase.” 

Feeling accomplished, you grasp the handle of your case and smile, "She accepts." You walk away smugly, head held high, leaving him behind to head to the front doors again, this time with a spring in your step. When you return to the office, you will gladly inform the girls in admin about this.

As you and Jongseong walk into the building, it is exactly how you described it, classic and grand with a bustle of wealthy people. Suddenly, the jeans and blouse you’re wearing don’t fit right on your body. 

Something touches your hand and you yank it away quickly, almost going into defence mode before you look down to see Jongseong’s hand stretched out beside you.

He looks down at his empty hand and back up to you, his face serious, “Take my hand,” He asks, bored of this conversation already.

“Ew, why?” 

“What do you mean ‘why’, you’re my wife, remember?” Oh, yeah…you suppose the charade started as soon as you walked through the massive turnstile door. Sighing, he takes your hand again except this time he successfully intertwines his fingers with yours, the feeling of your hand in his is foreign and peculiar, he doesn’t think he’s ever held hands like this with someone despite being in his 20s, “You ready?”

With a quick nod, you both make your way to the reception desk. The woman behind the counter is physically flawless. The pinned-up hair and her faux mink lashes fanned across her eyes making her gaze sultry, and her plump lips were upturned into a generous smile. 

You could tell Jongseong was a bit taken aback by her beauty because it took him a minute of staring before gathering his words, “Hi, we have a reservation, should be under Hwangs. I believe Mr. Kim Kwangmin arranged everything.”

As soon as he says the criminal’s name, the receptionist straightens her back, face whitening a little. She clearly knew of his nature and like most of the city, she did not want to mess him about. Usually in fancy establishments like this, they ask to see ID before checking people in, but not this time, the girl was too flustered to do anything other than nod and rearrange her desk. It’s lucky for you she didn’t ask for ID considering your undercover operations unit didn’t have time to muster up any fake passports due to the suddenness of the invitation. 

Your aliases for this case are the Hwangs. Apparently, you’ve been married for a year, dating for 3, and dotingly in love with one another. Jongseong is new money, he inherited it from his late Uncle who passed away. Kim Kwangmin prayed on people who had more money than sense, enticing them to create fake companies where he could ship drugs from A to B. That’s why it’s been so hard to catch him because he’s never the name on the papers. But if Jongseong can get him to talk about it in detail, he’s got him behind bars. 

The conversation of a wife came up randomly in conversation, Kwangmin is a family man who loves his wife and kids, and for Jongseong to gain his trust he spouted a load of bullshit about how he was in the world’s most perfect marriage with the love of his life. He doesn’t know why it worked, but he isn’t going to question it now.

“Mr. and Mrs. Hwang, you’ll be in the Ambassador Suite as per Mr. Kim’s written request. I’ll call someone to escort you and take your bags,” She points with her hand to the lift while two men come up to take your things, “If you make your way to the private elevator,”

Jongseong thanks her, bowing as he takes your hand again. All eyes are on you already but that isn’t surprising, it would be more bewildering if no one was watching you considering you’re the prestigious guest of a drug king.

You both get up to your Suite and it is unreal. The lift opens directly into the room and you’re met with nothing but luxury. Perhaps this assignment did come with some perks. Taking your shoes off, you whisper a little ‘wow’ as you look around, the clean cream carpets feel like you are stepping on a cloud, you almost don’t want to put on the complimentary slippers that are waiting for you, but you do anyway, trying to soak up as much of this experience as possible.

Jongseong walks straight ahead, not even soaking in the embellishments of the Suite. He wasn’t one for blissfully looking around, he had a job to do after all. 

You do a quick tour of the place before you hear Jongseong groan, “For fuck sake.”

“Hmm?” You prance over to him, still in a dream-like state from all the luxury and elegance, “What is it?”

“Look,” He keeps staring in front of him as you join him to look at the bed. It looks so inviting, the rich Egyptian cotton throws and fluffy pillows make you want to jump on the bed. So you do.

You take a step back before launching yourself onto it, squealing out a soft ‘wee!’ as if you’re a kid shooting down a slide in the playpark. The way you’re acting is perfectly representative of your luggage but you don’t care, you’re far too busy doing snow angels on the soft duvet, “What’s the issue? This is perfect,” You roll around a few times to really soak it in.

“Just wondering if you’ve had a look around,” He twirls his finger in a circle, looking at you disappointedly.

“Yeah! There’s a bath, a bar, a lounge area bigger than my house,” You go on listing everything you saw. 

“Mhmm, and was there another bed?” He asks.

You think, “No I didn’t see-”. Okay, you see the issue now. There was only one bed. With an annoyed scowl, he shook his head at the sheer obviousness of the situation, as if he was frustrated he even had to address it. 

Sharing a bed was the last thing any of you wanted, so you had to come to an agreement, however, both of you seemed to be thinking the same thing. “You can take the couch.” You both say at the exact same time and it creates an eerie silence in the bedroom.

“This is my assignment, I get the bed.” He argues, walking around to grab you and throw you off, but you use your weight against him, playing dead.

“No! I was forced here, my job was being put on the line, so this is my bed.” While you protest, he’s climbing on the bed, pulling at you to get off, his hands gripping your wrist to heave you off, but you won’t go down without a fight. Kicking your legs, you try to boot him off you, but he’s strong and half of you is off the bed already, “Jongseong! Let go!”

“Stop being a baby and let me have the bed!” He fights back. The hold he has you in is representative of a bodyslam that wrestlers would do in the ring, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, “Come on, Y/N. Give it up.”

With a swift kick, you boot him in the balls, causing him to groan and roll over, body going limp. Panicked, you sit up and check him, “Shit, Jongseong, you good?” But he doesn’t say anything, instead clutching his goods, face screwed in pain. Tucking your hair behind your ear you lean over him, checking his pulse. He might be dead, he hasn’t moved for a hot minute.

Jongseong breathes out, trying to dull the pain. You played dirty, he respected it, but his dick didn’t. 

“Jongseong, hey, I didn’t mea-”

You don’t get to finish your apology because he’s suddenly got his hands on your shoulders and flipping you both around so now you’re the one on your back, his body weight keeping you down, “What the fuck was that?!”

Laughing you let out a pathetic ‘sorry’ but Jongseong isn’t amused. However, the snorts coming from your mouth sweeten his distaste for the situation a little. Quickly, you cover your mouth, shocked at the noises you’ve just made. Staring at each other, you both hit a fit of giggles. You haven’t snort-laughed in so long, not since a girl's night back at the beginning of the year. 

Once the hilarity dies down, you look up at him still hovering over you, the heat from his body bringing a flush to your face that you hope you can pass off as a lack of oxygen from the giggling. However, when he meets your gaze, you notice the same blushed colour across his cheeks. You swear for a whole second he looks handsome, like he has a face you don’t want to punch for once. 

This Jongseong right now shows an unexpected softness in his gaze which brings back memories of when you met him for the first time at the precinct. Back then, he was full of life, free of the responsibilities of the job. For a brief moment, it feels like you've caught a glimpse of a different, more approachable side of him.

Suddenly, his decoy phone he’s been using undercover rings loudly, startling you both off the bed and helping you regain your sense of judgment because the way you were starting to think about Jongseong as he lay on top of you was…It will never happen again.

“That is my bed. Period.” He says, swiping to answer the call on his phone.

Fixing yourself, you do your best to ignore what just happened, grabbing your case from the front door and unpacking it on your bed. 

He walks back into the room and chucks his phone on the bedside table, “Kim wants us for dinner at 8pm sharp. Go get changed.” There he is, the usual mean and cold Park Jongseong. Any feelings you felt earlier are gone with the wind because this is who he truly is. He doesn’t even spare you another look before he leaves to get ready himself.

Just two nights, that’s all it is. 

_______

8pm comes faster than you thought and as you swipe the last bit of lip gloss to your lips, you hear Jongseong complaining about how you will both be late. Instead of paying him any mind, you give yourself the once over in the bathroom mirror. Your makeup is smoky and sultry, and your hair is curled loosely since you didn't have the time to fight with bobby pins to put it in an updo. The dress you’re wearing is a little over the top but when you read the case file you noticed how Mr. Kim loved extravagant, and boy was this dress just that. The black body-con, dinner dress hugged you perfectly and accentuated all the right places, a bold slit travels up your thigh which reveals just enough skin with each stride, and the sweetheart cut paired with off-the-shoulder lace sleeves just add to the drama of it all. You looked like you stepped out of a James Bond movie, which wasn’t a bad thing at all.

“Can you please hurry up,” An impatient Jongseong bangs on the bathroom door.

“Relax, oh my god!” You place the lip gloss in your matching silk bag and walk out to greet your ‘husband’. 

“About fucking time.” He mumbles, looking at his watch, “We need to…go.” His words trail off as he finally sets his eyes on you, “Woah.”

“I look good, huh? Can I pass for a millionaire’s wife?” You twirl, widening the slit to show more of your leg and Jongseong’s jaw nearly hits the floor. He’s so used to you in athleisure wear or jeans with your hair held together by a claw clip that’s missing two prongs, he didn’t think you could look so elegant, so beautiful.

Floating over to him, you place your two fingers under his jaw and close his mouth, “You’ll catch flies, baby.”

Embarrassed, Jongseong regains his senses and swats your hand away, “Shut up. Let’s go.” He pushes you slightly to the door as you chuckle over how flustered he is. It did make you feel a little bit sexier than you did before because if you can make Park Jongseong swoon, you’re definitely going to have the attention of Mr. Kim, and attention is all you need to gain a confession.

With your arm in his, Jongseong leads you to the dining room where you’re set to have dinner. He spent the elevator ride going over the plan. You had to act a little dumb, make him feel like he’s leading the conversation, and be all over your man. Of course, Jongseong would make his wife obsessed with him, he doesn’t get any action outside of this fantasy, well, that’s what you tell yourself. His personality is so repugnant that you can’t imagine anyone being with him. No matter how hot he is, especially in a suit.

His beauty in the tailor-made suit didn’t go unnoticed by you, he looked delicious, but he was still a prick, a prick that hated you.

The dining room is filled with upper-class cartels, all businessmen who would do anything to be on top. It makes you feel a little queasy, but you swallow it down and focus on your role. You state your business to the host and urgently, you’re shown to your table where Mr. and Mrs. Kim are already there. That’s a bad start, no one should ever be late for a meeting with Kim Kwangmin, and by late, that means he gets there before you.

"Mr. Kim, hello." Jongseong's stance is more poised than normal, but you can feel his nervousness. If he cracks this case, he will be the youngest detective to do anything of this magnitude, so you can appreciate what he is going through. In an attempt to reassure him, you swipe your thumb over his arm, which he only feels through his suit jacket. Nevertheless, he’s thankful for it.

Mr. Kim stands and reaches his hand out, “You’re late, Hwang.” 

“Apologies, Sir-”

“That was my fault, Mr. Kim. I made him change a few times. Every suit he was trying on was giving last fall, and I said to him ‘Babe, only the best from Mr. Kim’, Isn’t that right, Jjongie?” You don’t know why you took on the persona of a teenage girl who has a tweet count of 20k, but it seemed to do the trick because Kim Kwangmin is laughing.

“The things we’ll do for our girls, eh?” Mr. Kim says and Jongseong awkwardly laughs with him, nodding. When he looks down at you, his expression is appreciative, “Please, have a seat. I’ve ordered some entrees.” The man extends his arm as he sits himself.

Jongseong bows and pulls out your chair for you and as you sit down, he kisses your cheek lightly, the act of service making your stomach flutter.

This is going to be a long night.

And it was. Jongseong is getting nowhere, every time he tries to hint towards Mr. Kim’s dealings, the man just brushes him off, too busy talking about the stock market and other men in suits kind of chats. To be honest, you zoned out about 20 minutes ago, your fork rolling a pea across your plate. You hate business talk, it’s so mind-numbingly dull. Who cares about all of this, really?

“Ah, Jongseong, looks like I’ve bored your little lady,” Mr. Kim points out and it brings you back to attention. 

“Not at all, Sir, she just gets a little distracted, don’t you, Princess?” He tries to cover for you, eyes glaring at you. 

You giggle and stroke Jongseong’s arm, “I don’t get business talk, I just like the money.” Your fake honesty earns you another laugh from Mr. Kim, he has taken a shine to you throughout the dinner which works in your favour and this is your chance to try and wiggle something out of him, “My baby, spoils me but sometimes he’s so stingy with money.” You pout and Mrs. Kim raises her glass to your statement, clearly understanding your faked pain.

“Tut, tut, Jongseong, we should always spoil our girls.” He reprimands your husband and you nod eagerly, playing your dumb role quite well. If being a detective doesn’t work out, maybe you should try acting.

Jongseong strokes your head and laughs, ���I treat her well, that’s why she married me. But I suppose I could venture into bigger waters to make sure she’s well looked after.” Cringe. Jongseong hates to speak about you like you’re nothing but an object, a black hole for his fake money because that’s absolutely not who you are, you’re the complete opposite. You’re strong and brave, and super smart. 

“Oh, Kwangie, let’s get them to do the love list?” 

Damn, that irritating wife of his. Jongseong had brilliantly set the tone for her husband to explain his inner connections, and she simply had to change the subject to what must only be the dumbest idea you've ever heard. You're not even sure what a love list is, but you don't want to participate.

Despite your inner monologue protesting the very thought, Mr. Kim doesn’t share your displeasement, “What a great idea! I tell you, it makes your marriage stronger than ever.” 

Mrs. Kim sees the confused look on both your faces, taking it as her opportunity to explain, “You look each other deep in the eyes, and whisper 3 things you love about one another. If you do it every day, you always see the good in them.” She looks proud as punch, clapping her hands lightly, “Go try it out!” She ushers you both together.

Even if this were a real marriage, why would anyone want to do this at all never mind in front of another couple they’ve just gotten to know? 

Desperately searching for a way out from this awkward charade, you turn to your husband for the weekend, only to find him sporting the same perplexed expression. If you two can't pull this off seamlessly, it's a sure bet that Kim will catch on. Throughout the night, Jongseong and you have been playing the part of lovers to perfection, and if the facade crumbles because you can't conjure up one genuine thing you both appreciate about each other, the entire plan goes to shit.

“C’mon you two, this should be easy, what with how you look at one another. Reminds me of a young us.” He looks at his wife and rubs his nose with hers. It’s hard to believe he is one of the scariest men in Seoul.

Jongseong puts one arm over the back of your seat and tugs you closer to him, staring at you, “I guess we could give it a shot, yeah?” Was he serious? The man hasn’t said one nice thing about you ever, and now he’s going to pluck three things out of his ass? This won’t work.

“Y/N, you go first.” 

Well, shit a brick and call it Mary. You are fucked.

Jongseong sees your worried expression and shakes his head as if telling you to keep it together. He leans into you, “Make up anything, even if it’s not real,” 

Three pairs of eyes stare at you, awaiting your love confessions. What do you appreciate about Park Jongseong? “Um, I think he’s really handsome?” The statement pops out like a question which seems to displease the couple opposite you.

“No, Y/N, start it with ‘I love’ and tell him little things that make you fall in love with him,” Mrs. Kim instructs, giving you another chance.

You cannot fuck it up this time. So you look deep into his eyes and search into him for your history, past all the bickering and agitation. His face softens, knowing this is putting you in an uncomfortable position, and it gives you a line, “I love that he knows when people around him are left out, and he tries to include them in every conversation so they feel seen.” 

Jongseong seems surprised by your answer, or more the sincerity of it. It was true though, you did appreciate that about him. One time, you were sitting as the only girl at the table having after work drinks, and not one of the guys included you in any of the banter, and when Jongseong noticed he pulled you into the conversation - albeit it was poking fun at you, but after that, the guys opened up around you.

Your eyes are still glued to his as you rhyme off another one, “I love that, when you’re not being uptight about things, your face loses its contours and you look so soft and squishy,” you laugh and pinch his cheek, “Like right now,” He hadn’t realised his hard shell had fallen as you spoke to him, making his appearance gentle. 

Giggling as he shakes you off, demeanour now shy, you think of a final one. This has been a lot easier than you thought, and you think you could probably say more than three now that your brain was on a roll.

“And I love the way you push me to be the best version of myself, even when I think your criticism is sometimes harsh and uncalled for, you make me want to be a better de-, person. I love that the most.” 

None of you let up eye contact as Mr. and Mrs. Kim applaud you, thankfully satisfied with your answers. Jongseong’s lips tug at the edges, giving you the first genuine smile of the night. He’s glad you managed to come up with things to keep the pair off your backs, but also because they were real things you liked about him. 

“Hwang, your turn. Tell your girl how you feel.” Kim instructs almost like he’s a love coach and you’re his patients. But Jongseong seems to forget that his alias has a different second name because he ignores the man and just keeps looking at you. You swear at one point he does the triangle method but you can’t be too sure.

“Jjongie?” You utter, voice just above a whisper, “Your turn,”

“I love,” He pauses, licking his lips, “I love that you give inanimate objects names, and care about them like they’re real people,” You laugh, recalling your previous events with your beloved Petunia, “In fact, the way you take care of everyone around you, and how you will do anything for anyone, I love that. That’s my first one.”

He sits with the next one for a while, making you nervous, but you don’t have to be, “I love how you put me in my place whenever my ego gets a little big. You keep me grounded without knowing it.”

You smile and pout at the same time, finding his words infiltrating your heart a little. Jongseong takes your hands in his, rubbing your knuckles gently as he finishes his love list, “I love…that you are by far one of the most beautiful people I have ever had the privilege to be around, inside and out.”

Oh, he is good.

The eye contact you’re both still holding is sparking a fire inside you, the warm feeling in your tummy makes you feel electric, like you could do anything. You’re both so engrossed in one another that you don’t hear the Kims leave, whispering how they should leave ‘you love birds to it’. 

You don’t know how long you sit there just looking at one another, but you think it must be about 10 minutes before you start to notice how quiet it is at your table. Breaking the contact first, you look around and see the man you’re after is gone, “Uh, Jongseong?” 

“Yeah, baby?” He’s still deep in his character, still focused on your side profile.

“They’re gone.” You state, pointing your head to the empty table. This is bad.

Jongseong finally removes his gaze from you to the problem and his face falls. How the fuck did they just sneak out like that? You daren’t look at him because you can already feel the anger radiating from his body. His jaw clenches and he bangs the table loudly, “Fuck!” 

Without a word, he stands up and storms out of the dining room and all the way up to your room, leaving you to waddle after him, not used to the heels you’re in. He is pissed, no he’s livid, seething at the fact his opportunity to get the dirt on the man he’s been after for 8 months just slipped away like water in a sieve. How could you both be so reckless? This never happens to him.

He swipes the key in the door and angrily strips himself of his shoes and jacket, not caring about anything other than how he can make this right. Before the door closes, you catch it, stepping into the room and following him quietly. You don’t know the best way to approach him.

“Jongseong, we still have tomorrow.”

“Like fuck we do, Y/N! This was the dinner to get in on his schemes, to finally get something on the guy I’ve been stuck kissing ass to for months!” He runs his fingers through his hair and tugs it harshly, “If you weren’t so fucking incompetent.”

“ME?! I didn’t do shit,” You argue back, offended. How can he blame this solely on you? As if he wasn’t the main part of this.

He spins and points to you, “You did plenty! Why didn’t you just make a load of shit up for that list and get it over and done with? I was doing great on this case before you turned up and ruined it.”

You don't want to fight with him, but you will since that is your true dynamic, not what you were like at the table, which was just a charade. This was the authentic you and Jongseong, “You’re acting like I did this all on my own but you were the one that brought up having a wife in the first place, you made me be here! And then you started making eyes at me when we were doing those stupid love lists, that’s on you, not me.” 

Jongseong has veins popping all over his body, his frustration overtaking him like you haven’t seen before. You see him charging towards you before he grabs your shoulders with force, but not enough to hurt you. He shakes you a little, “You drive me fucking crazy, I can’t stand you.”

You raise your voice to match his, pushing him off you, “Fuck you, Park!”

“Fine.” Grabbing the back of your head he pulls you to him, smashing his lips against yours. The action is sudden so it sucks the breath out of you. Were you really kissing Park Jongseong? “You’re so fucking infuriating,” His words are venomous but it doesn’t stop him from gripping your hair and pulling your head back to kiss you deeper. 

If you weren’t dizzy from the wine at dinner, you are now. This man is a psychopath, blowing hot and cold, and yet you’re kissing him back with just as much fervour as he is giving, your lips smushing with his. 

When he feels you reciprocate, he waltzes you to the wall behind you, accidentally slanting a few frames on the wall. You've never experienced anything like the force he has over you, and you can't get enough of it.

“I’m gonna ruin you like you ruined my case.” He spits, pressing you flat against the wall with his body, the arousal evident. 

Driven by a blend of rage and lust, your tongues collided furiously, resulting in a passionate kiss. 

Your head is so scrambled that you can’t decide what you want, so you push him off you to give you time to think. 

Standing about a meter apart, both of your chests rise and fall heavily as you pant, already gasping for air from the heated kiss. He looks dishevelled, hair a riot and your lipstick smothered over his mouth, it’s only adding to your attraction towards him.

Both of you stand, staring at one another, waiting for the next move. But who’s going to make it? 

You could, on the one hand, end this right now and give yourselves a little breathing space. You've brought the emotions from the dinner with you, impairing both his and your judgement. If you leave right now, you can stop this and pretend nothing happened.

But on the other hand, if you move towards him and take him how you want to, it’ll change the dynamic of your relationship forever, and possibly not for the better but could it get any worse? The man just said he couldn’t stand you, what’s one night of throwing caution to the wind, of finally claiming what you desire?

Fuck it.

You practically run towards him, almost knocking him over when you jump on him, arms wrapping around his neck as you pull him down to your level, kissing him just like before, only this time you’re taking control. It’s the stupidest idea you’ll have this year but you couldn’t give two fucks, the taste of his mouth inebriating. 

Wrapping one of your legs over his, you grind on his thigh, alleviating yourself of the ache that your clit has suddenly developed. It's calling out to him for sweet relief.

“I fucking hate you,” Jongseong says through gritted teeth, his bulge evident in his slacks.

“Fuck me like you do,” You breathe into his mouth. It’s an odd request, usually, the sex you have is filled with love, or at least tolerance, but this time it’s fuelled by pure lust, it’s intoxicating.

Heeding your consent, Jongseong grips your waist tightly and guides you to the bedroom, all the while his mouth is eating yours. The mix of both your spit in one another's mouths is messy and your teeth are hitting off his, you’re both on each other as if you’re on a time limit. Technically you are because one second too long and someone’s clear judgement will start to kick in and stop this. 

Before you throw yourselves into bed, you both have a little issue called ‘clothes’ to take care of first. The gown was nice but he had to see what was hiding underneath.

Reaching for the zip of the dress, he tries to pull it down but it doesn’t budge and he’s too impatient for this right now, longing for your body. After a few tugs it doesn’t budge and he growls, annoyed at this hurdle of inconvenience. He looks down, inspecting the dress to see if he can just pull it over you but he sees a better, more efficient idea.

His hands grip the fabric of your dress at the slit, fingers digging into the material and each side and with a sudden, forceful tug, the threads snap as your beautiful, very expensive gown is torn in half. He uses every muscle in his arms to rip it off you, he’s never been more thankful for hitting the weights 4 days a week.

“Jongseong!” You gasp, annoyed that he’s just ruined your clothes but he doesn’t care, not when you’re standing before him with nothing but your black thong, tits out, and the garter for your gun. He isn’t saying he’s imagined this scenario before, but you’re more gorgeous than he could have ever pictured. 

Throwing the torn dress across the room, he makes way for your mouth again, only this time his hands are massaging your boobs roughly. You can feel the grit on his hands, a testament to the hard work of your job, but the scratchiness of his fingertips only makes you weak at the knees, the sensation of him all over your tits was magical.

For a little revenge, and because you can’t wait any longer, you rip open his white linen shirt, buttons consequently popping and flying across the room. He’s kissing you so forcefully you don’t even get to bask in how his tanned skin contrasts the paleness of his shirt, or how his torso is perfectly lean, not too ripped.

You rub your hands all over him as if trying to memorise every muscle and tense abs. The feeling of your hands dancing over him has Jongseong snarling softly as your mouths continue to meld together, “Such a pain in my ass, L/N.” 

It’s an invitation to slide your hands down to his ass and squeeze his cheeks and at the same time push his cock onto your core. His eyes roll to the back of his head, his nails digging into you, scraping harshly. You’ll definitely have marks in the morning.

With a determined shove, he propelled you onto the bed, a sense of urgency driving his actions. Jongseong needed you. Now.

Just like your dress, your flimsy thong is torn from your body, the burn of the material being ripped along your skin only heightens your pleasure. You’re laid spread on the bed, waiting for his next move, but when he doesn’t budge, too busy drinking in the sight of you, you need to take matters into your own hands.

Situating yourself on your knees, you undo his trousers and pull them down with his boxers, freeing his hardened cock of the confinements. The mixture of the natural breeze from the room and your hot breath makes him twitch in anticipation, “You want to suck my cock?” You’re so infatuated with his shaft and the veins running along it that you don’t register the mocking tone of his voice which normally you would snap at.

Jongseong grips your jaw so tight your mouth automatically opens. He tilts your head up so you both look at each other, eyes hazed with desire, “Fucking take it, then.”

With that, he’s shoving his length into your mouth, pushing you down until he feels the resistance of your throat. He’s not a monster, he isn’t just going to start abusing your mouth, but he does shallowly thrust his dick a few times, testing the waters. Fueled with rage or not, he’s not going to hurt you.

You on the other hand, swirl your tongue around his shaft as you bob your head up and down, loving the feeling of him filling your mouth. Personally, you don’t mind it rough, and by the look on Jongseong’s face, he’s holding back a little. It’s oddly sweet considering he looked like he could have murdered you 10 minutes ago.

Placing both your hands on his hips, you sink your closed throat around the tip of his cock, pulling him in as deep as he can go.

Jongseong’s hands clenched into fists and grabbed your hair, his knuckles turned white from the intensity of the sensation. He tries to push deeper into your throat, meeting your gag reflex with a groan. 

You push his hips out before pulling him back in harshly, giving him a hint of what you want. Fortunately, Jongseong has always been a fast learner, “You want me to fuck your throat, hmm?” You hum around him which elicits a wicked smirk on his face, “Good.” 

Rapidly, his hips move on their own, his cock now fucking your mouth and throat raw. It burns in the best possible way, the taste of his pre-cum sliding onto the back of your tongue each time he pulls back makes you moan. 

“You look so much prettier when your mouth is stuffed with my cock,” He comments, noting how much he loved the way you looked with your eyes watering and puffed out. You look like a dream, a dream he hopes he never wakes up from.

He holds your head still will both his hands, ass clenched as he fucks into you, mind completely lost in the feeling of your mouth.

Jongseong loves to be in control, not dominant, but his partners definitely know their place, and it’s to be putty in his hands.

What he doesn’t notice is how he actually isn’t in charge, you’re just making him think he is. It was you that decided whether this happened or not, it was you who got him to fuck your throat dry, and it’s you that’s going to make him cum.

Sucking harder, you’re trying to coax him to cum all down your throat, to help soothe the pain, but he won’t let that happen. Yanking at your hair, he pulls you off and you gasp for air, not realising you are losing oxygen. 

He almost unnoticeably checks to see if you’re okay, gazing softly into your eyes, but once he sees you smiling, he goes right back to his ways, pushing you down onto the bed and crawling over you. 

The way he's confined you beneath him causes your body to arch up to meet him and draw his entire weight onto you; his bare cock accidentally scrapes against your clit, causing your hips to buck up to gain friction. 

“So fucking desperate for me. I haven’t even made sure you can take me yet,” He teases, his hips moving slowly to slide his cock between your folds, gathering your slick as natural lube. You’re so wet you don’t even need any help, his cock could slide right in.

“I can take it,” You match his arrogance, not completely sure of the certainty in your words because he’s big, but it’s all to do with his length rather than girth, so you think you can handle it. Plus, you won't ever back down from a challenge set by your work foe. 

His face looks a little dubious too, like he doesn’t believe you. You’ll just have to prove it to him.

You smoothly flipped him over on the bed, a mischievous grin playing on your lips. As he landed beneath you, you held him in place, the thrill of the unexpected move adding an extra spark to the moment. It’s a carbon copy of how he pushed you onto the bed before dinner, just with way less clothes.

Not wasting any time you pump his cock a few times and spit on it, mixing the fluids of your saliva and his cum to help him ease into you.

“Fuck, you sure you can handle-” Jongseong’s words stop in place when his cock breaches your entrance as you start to sink onto him, “Holy shit,” He whispers, eyes shut tight as he feels the way you’re hugging his cock, the heat of you travelling to him. You feel sensational.

You start with shallow bounces, not taking his whole length into you just yet, but even just the 3 out of 6 inches you are experiencing are driving you wild. 

Jongseong wants nothing more than to bottom out and claim you right here and now but there’s something so satisfying about seeing you struggle to hold your weight up as you ride him. He could have some fun with this.

His hands rub your thighs, one of which moves closer to your cunt. You're too preoccupied to notice, so when his thumb circles your clit, you lose your balance and collapse onto him, all of his cock buried inside you now. The sudden stretch was glorious like you don’t understand why you didn’t just sit all the way on his dick in the first place.

“What’s wrong, Y/N? Too full of my cock to keep going?” He comments on your still body. Truthfully, you were just basking in the way his cock is stuffing you while his thumb keeps up the rhythm on your clit, you really didn’t have to move. But he’s taunting you to keep going and you can’t let him get away with it, he’ll never let you live it down if you just sit there. He’d call you selfish or a lone player, whatever else he’s called you at work.

So you start to move, grinding random shapes that would hilt his tip into all the perfect places inside your heat.

Like putty in his hands. He smirks, his tongue swipes his bottom lip as he watches you work for it. 

Your hands try to grasp anything that will aid you, but all you have is your hair, which isn't ideal but threading your fingers and pulling at the hairs on your scalp reminds you of how he had an iron grip on you when he first kissed you. 

Jongseong has to admire you right now because you’re taking your pleasure into your own hands, he’s basically doing nothing and he thinks you might be close to cumming. The competitive side of him knows what to do because he will be damned if he isn’t pounding you, making you scream his name as you cum.

He fucks up into you, taking over and making you lose the pace you had set. You would complain if he wasn’t hammering into you so good. The moans leaving your mouth are frenzied, calling out for more, which he’ll happily give you, just not in this position.

Cradling your back he sits up and throws you so he’s on top, your head now hanging off the end of the bed, the instant blood rush turns your brain to mush, and all the while he doesn’t stop thrusting into you, each time he moves, it hits a new spot you didn’t know you had. He’s fucking you so good, you’ll never get enough.

Jongseong dislikes the fact that he can't see your face, so he yanks you back onto the bed by your legs, causing him to dig deeper into your pussy. Once your fucked out face comes back into view, he smirks because you’re completely gone, eyes shut as you feel every inch of him. 

“Told you I would ruin you, didn’t I?” He grits out, slapping your left tit, causing you to yelp back into the world, your eyes now watering at the sting.

“Not ruined me enough,” You bite back, egging him on to go rougher. 

He tilts his head in disbelief as he keeps battering your pussy with his cock, the audacity you have to say that when you couldn’t even speak a minute ago. Roughly, grabs the back of your head and pulls you forward, his forehead against yours as his eyes burn deep into yours, “Say that again.” 

Every fibre of your body tells you not to speak another word, but you never listened to yourself anyway, “You couldn’t ruin me as bad as you ruined your case.”

“Fuck you.” He grips your throat keeping your head up and kisses you roughly, his tongue sweeping all along your mouth. Jongseong can only see red because it was you who made him forget about the assignment because it was your eyes he was getting lost in. This was your fault and no one else. 

Harshly, he pins you back to the bed by your neck, not squeezing too harshly, but just enough to restrict your breath flow. He saw how much you loved the head rush earlier, so he took that as a sign you would like to be choked while he fucks you.

He was right.

“You know what? I’m going to make my own list,” He breathes out, “My hate list.” 

You’re a little confused but you’re too drunk on his cock to understand even the simplest of sentences.

Jongseong begins to snap his hips into you with each sentence, “I hate that you think you’re better than me,” His grip squeezes your throat, “I hate when you suck up to the boss’ ass and stick me in shit when it’s convenient for you.”

You let out a whimper at his brute force, “Jongseong…please,” You try to fuck onto him more, the single thrusts not giving you what you want quick enough, but that only earns you another squeeze of your jugular.

“And I hate that I love how good you’re pussy feels,” Your ears prick up at the twisted compliment, a sense of accomplishment coming over you, “You drive me batshit crazy, and I fucking love it.”

He withdraws his hand from your throat and trails it back down to your bud, now focusing all his efforts on helping you finish. 

“I hate that you can’t just admit you like me,” You breathe out, voice hoarse. 

For a split second, he stops all his movements, but he refuses to acknowledge what you just said because it’s not true. He doesn’t like you, not one bit…

This was treading into dangerous territory and Jongseong knew it, so he had to end this fast. With one smooth movement, he hoists your back up to arch it and pounds himself deep into you, his balls slapping against your ass due to his relentless pace. He was showing you no mercy, he was showing you how much he hated your guts.

“I’m cumming, Jjongie,” You whine out.

He notices the nickname and, while he won't admit it, he likes it. Only when you say it, or rather how you say it, especially now that you're clenching down on him and cumming over his cock. The way your pussy clamps him causes him to blast his load deep into you, his previously tactical thrusts now hilted so he can fill you up. 

Shared pants echo the room as you both sit in the consequences of your actions. 

You just fucked Park Jongseong - and you liked it. The mix of anger and desire just added a new level to sex you didn’t think possible. 

Abruptly, he gets off you, and his cock slips out of you leaving you feeling a little empty, “I’ll take the couch,” he says, face hard with seriousness. He was just going to leave you like this? Weren’t you going to talk about what just happened? 

“Oh…okay.” You say deflated. 

Jongseong notices and turns his head to you, his back still in clear view, but he doesn’t utter a word. Instead, he sighs and picks up his case, retreating to the living area of the hotel suite. 

You feel a little tacky, not just physically but mentally. You weren’t expecting love and kisses after the sex, but a little ‘That was good’ or even ‘Are you okay?’ would have been enough. 

Attempting to push aside the lingering thoughts, you slip off of the bed and head to the shower, determined to rid your body and mind of all traces of his presence. As you retrieve your pyjamas and walk by him, you inadvertently overlook the gloomy expression on his face, like he wants to do more but he already complicated your relationship enough when he kissed and then fucked you, in his mind, it was best just to forget about it.

_____

The next morning you awake with the brightness of the day shining on your face. Your body is sore from the way Jongseong handled you last night. If it was any other circumstance, you would probably be smiling, reliving the best fuck you’ve had for years, but you’re not smiling. You can’t, not after he left you so coldly.

A buzzing from your phone diverts your attention into the real world. You read his name at the top of your phone and you begin to read the plethora of messages from this morning

Park Jongseong

5:12am: 

Gone to see if I can arrange lunch with him.

Wear something nice.

5:32am: 

Meet us at 11am in the dining room.

7:23am:

I’m sorry for last night.

I was a prick.

You ignore the apology and look at the time, it’s currently just past 10am which means you better get your ass in gear and get ready. 

It’s time to be Jongseong’s devoted wife.

[atomicami]

bull ride

contractor!abby anderson x joel’s daughter!reader

- summary: you spend the night out at a bar and decide to challenge yourself on the mechanical bull to impress abby. when abby sees you from the crowd, she ends up giving you something else to take a ride on. (part 4)

- content: smut MDNI, porn with plot, no outbreak/modern au, contractor/engineer!abby, texas living, no sarah, joel and jerry are both alive, jerry is not a doctor, reader has a business degree, family & work drama, bar setting, some alcohol consumption, truck sex (bit of a quickie), fingering (a!receiving), strap usage (r!receiving), strap sucking, abby referring to the strap as her cock, basically save a horse ride a cowgirl tbh 🤠

- author’s note: hi everyone… i know i’ve been very inactive this year but this part has actually been sitting in my drafts since march so i figured i’d at least post it for the few people who’ve been waiting this long to read it, i hope y’all enjoy it

previous parts: quick fix, surprise visit, charity work

It’s been a week since the bake sale, meaning that it’s also been a week since Abby last had her hands on you.

You’d be lying if you said that this week was flying slow for you right now, because to your surprise, seven days flew by like seven minutes, and before you knew it, it was officially Saturday.

You’re sitting in your room by your dresser, fully dressed from head to toe in the finest Western apparel that you own, finishing the touches on your makeup in the mirror. You then look down at your phone for a moment, still eyeing the last text that Abby had sent you.

She invited you to go to Wild Randy’s tonight, and while you were excited to see her again, you were dreading it at the same time.

It was mainly because Wild Randy’s was the go-to place for you and Joel, and as bad as you want to sneak off with Abby again, you knew that you’d also have to make sure you wouldn’t get caught by your dad either.

You take a few deep breaths before standing up and adjusting your belt, then grabbing your phone and bag before exiting your bedroom.

“Dad! I’m ready to go!” you call out as you strut down the stairs. Given that you always take longer than him to get ready, you figured he’d be sitting on the couch waiting for you, but to your surprise, he wasn’t there.

“Dad? Where are you?” you call out for him again, entering the kitchen to find it empty as well. You roam around the house for a bit before entering the garage, seeing him still in his work clothes working on blueprints. “Dad…are you not coming?”

Joel looks up at you, frowning once he sees you ready to leave. “Oh, shit…it’s Saturday isn’t it?” he says, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I’m sorry kid, I know we go to Randy’s every Saturday but…work’s just been tyin’ me down lately.”

You nod to your dad in acknowledgment. “Well, we can skip tonight if—“

“No, no, no, s’alright,” he says, quickly cutting off your words. “You go. There’s always next weekend right?” he looks down for a moment at his workspace before looking back up at you. “Are you gonna drive yourself there or…?”

“Oh, um it’s okay Dad, I can text Dina for a ride.” you take a few steps closer to him before continuing. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” you ask him, receiving a nod from him in response.

“Okay, well…don’t stay up too late, we have to go to the hardware store next week to start getting supplies for the Mitchell home.” you remind him as you walk your way to the door.

Joel clicks his tongue at you in response. “Thanks for remindin’ me, kid. Don’t have too much fun out there, alright?”

You smile and nod back at him before leaving the garage. Even though you felt bad that your dad couldn’t come, you can’t help but feel relieved about it either. With your dad out of the way, you’d be able to get some time with Abby without the risk of getting caught by him.

You pull out your phone to send a text to Dina telling her to pick you up, and in less than ten minutes she was already honking at your door. While checking to make sure you have everything, you exit your house before locking it, walking down the porch to see Dina inside her car with the windows rolled down.

“Hey, you!” she shouts out, leaning forward over her steering wheel. “Ready for Randy’s?”

“You bet I am!” you shout back to her as you hurriedly get into the passenger side of her car and sit down.

The ride to Wild Randy’s was pretty quick, given that there’s never a rush hour on Saturdays. Aside from the twenty minutes it took Dina to find an available parking spot, the two of you were now quickly settled at the bar.

“So tell me, how’s it going with you and Abby?” Dina asks you as you both sit yourselves down on the bar stools.

Before you can respond to her, Jesse ends up cutting in from behind the bar with two beers in his hand. “Wait a second, you’ve been having a thing with Anderson?” he asks you, popping open the two bottles before handing them to you and Dina. “Didn’t you say that your dad doesn’t want you around her?”

You nod to him in response. “Yeah, and I mean I’ve been doing that for what, four, five years now? But I needed her to come over a few weeks ago to fix an outlet in my living room and it just like…happened, you know?” you explained, taking a sip from your beer.

Dina quickly gulped and set her bottle back down on the bar. “Wait a minute…is that why you were acting so weird during movie night?”

“Yeah…” you tell her with a nod, taking another sip out of your beer. “Anyways, she told me she was going to be here today so…” your words drift off as you turn your head around in search of her, and you are quick to catch her entering the bar with her group of friends. Not only that, but her father was also nowhere to be seen.

It was the first time you saw Abby like this, outside of work and not in her work clothes for once. She was wearing a pair of jeans instead of her usual cargo pants, a pair of western boots instead of her usual work ones, and her tool belt was ditched for a leather belt with a metal buckle on the center. She also had on a tight button-up that showed off her muscles, and to top it all off, a cowboy’s hat that rested over her braided blond hair.

You hate to admit it, but she was looking pretty damn good right now.

Dina suddenly snaps her fingers at you to get your attention, causing you to swivel your chair back around. “She’s there right now isn’t she?” she asks you, receiving a nod from you in response.

“Yeah, I want to go talk to her but…” your words drift off again as you turn back to see her. As you check her out, you notice from the corner of your eye some movement going on towards your left. You fully swivel your chair around this time to get a better look. It appeared to be a group of employees carrying out a large mechanical bull inside an inflatable ring, while another employee stood next to them, giving them orders on where to position the machine.

“Jesse,” you call out to him, swiveling your stool back to face him. “They’re bringing back the bull?”

Jesse looks up briefly to see the mechanical bull being set up before looking back down and pouring some contents into a cocktail shaker. “Yeah, we’ve been getting so many requests to bring it back up after our last bull broke down last year,” he explains as he continues preparing the cocktail for the customer in front of him.

You briefly look back at the bull for a moment, then look over to where Abby was. At that moment, an idea instantly sparked in your mind. What better way could there be to catch Abby’s attention than impressing her by taking a ride on the mechanical bull?

The sound of a loud microphone tap shakes you out of your thoughts, and you look over to see the bar’s owner standing in front of the bull with the microphone in his hand. “Ladies and gentlemen!” he calls out, quickly grabbing the attention of all the patrons inside the dimly lit bar. “I’m pleased to announce that we now have our brand new and improved mechanical bull back into our bar!” he announces, quickly receiving cheers and applause from the customers. “Now who in here…” he says, pointing a finger around the bar. “Is gonna be the first one to be brave enough and take her for a ride?”

You look around the bar to see several amounts of people already preparing themselves for the challenge. Part of you wanted to not do it, but a bigger part of you wanted to ride that damn bull like there was no tomorrow. You were willing to do it, just for the sake of impressing Abby. Neither of your dads were here right now, so who knows when you could get another opportunity like this? It was either now or never.

“I’ll do it!” you shout out, quickly raising your hand to get the owner’s attention.

Dina quickly grabs your hand and pulls it down to your lap. “What are you doing? Are you seriously gonna ride that thing?” she asks with concern.

You open your mouth to respond, but you’re cut off by the owner shouting at you. “You right there! Come on up here!”

You look over at the man before back at Dina. “I guess I am now,” you tell her with a shrug, hopping off of the bar stool and approaching your way towards the ring.

As you walk away from the bar, Jesse comes to Dina from behind, leaning into her side. “I’ll bet you $20 that she won’t last the full five minutes.”

You watch the owner squint to try to get a better look at you as you get closer to the inflatable ring. “Well well well, what do we have here!” he says as you make it to the ring, now standing next to him. “If it isn’t Joel Miller’s daughter herself. You think you’ll be able to handle the bull, Miss Miller?” he asks, pointing the microphone towards you.

You grab the mic from the owner and hold it closer to yourself. “Well, I guess we’ll have to see but…I think I could handle her,” you tell him with confidence before handing the mic back to him.

Numerous amounts of patrons clap and cheer you on in response. As the owner continues to speak to the audience, you step into the inflatable ring, watching as your boots sink inside. You look at your surroundings for a moment, seeing all of the customers placing their bidding money into a hat and passing it around the bar. The hat goes around past Abby as well, and you could’ve sworn she had slipped a hundred-dollar bill in there for you. Her eyes then meet with yours for a moment, and so does that stupid smirk of hers.

“Alright Miss Miller, you have five minutes up on the clock now, if you can make it to the end, you win the bidding money, got it?” the owner explains to you.

You nod at him in acknowledgment. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

You then turn back around so you’re facing the bull. You take a few steps backward as a head start, then quickly run forward and hop on top of the bull. Your hands quickly grab onto the handles, and you keep your legs wrapped around the sides of the bull. Lastly, you position your hips on the bull by pushing them forward, keeping yourself as close as possible to the saddle.

The bull was quickly activated as soon as you sat down, and so was the timer. The machine began to rock back and forth, slowly to start. Once you felt like you were getting the hang of it, that’s when the speed began to go faster. Your grip on the bull progressively gets tighter and tighter the more that the speed increases. It eventually escalated to the fullest speed, the bull now moving and spinning around like crazy. Time has never flown by slower for you than at this moment. On the inside, you were getting so dizzy to where you were going to be sick. But you couldn’t express that. Not in front of the audience. Not in front of Abby.

Regardless of it, you refused to let go. You held onto the bull like your life depended on it, waiting for the timer to count down to zero. Five minutes felt more like an eternity to you right now, but you soon start to feel relief once you hear the audience begin to count down.

Ten, nine, eight…

You lock down your grip on the bull’s handles.

Seven, six, five…

Your legs remain secure on each side of the saddle, and your hips push forward against it. As much as you were trying to hold onto the bull, you couldn’t help but imagine your hips pushing forward on Abby’s str—

Four, three, two, one!

The timer goes off, and the bull begins to slow itself down. As the machine comes to a stop, you instantly loosen your grip on it. You let out a breath of relief as you look up, watching all of the patrons cheer and applaud you. One of the employees approaches to help you, and you carefully hop off the bull before exiting the ring.

“I have to say you did phenomenal on that bull there, Miss Miller.” the owner tells you through the mic, handing you the bidding money. “Anything you wanna say to the audience?”

You take the money from his hands before taking the microphone. “Well, first of all, thank you all for bidding on me, and second…” you pause for a moment before continuing. “And I don’t mean to self-promote but…if anyone here needs any construction help…be sure to contact my dad’s company, Miller Contracting. We’re the best in all of Austin.” your eyes scan around the audience before your gaze fixes on Abby. You keep your eyes on her for a little bit, smirking at her before looking back at the audience and walking off, a last set of applause happening as you do so.

You make your way back to the spot where Jesse and Dina remain. “See? Told y’all I’d beat that thing,” you say, flaunting your bidding money in front of them. Jesse leans forward on the bar to get closer to you. “Mind if I get a cut of that?” he asks, trying to grab the money from your hand.

You move your hand away from him and shake your head. “Hell no, I won this fair and square,” you tell him, clutching the money close to your chest. “Besides, didn’t you bid against me anyway?”

Jesse scoffs, still leaning forward on the bar. “Yeah, but I still have rent to pay,” he replies before taking his weight off the bar to assist another customer.

You simply roll your eyes at him and chuckle in response as you count your money. “Don’t be so dramatic, it’s not even that much—“ your words quickly cut off once you notice something unusual on the hundred-dollar bill. You pull it out of the thin stack, seeing a note attached to it that reads:

“Meet me at the parking lot in five. —A”

You smirk to yourself upon reading the message, not even realizing that you were doing so until Dina points it out. “She wants you to go see her, doesn’t she?” she asks, crossing her arms at you.

You simply nod at her in acknowledgment. “Yeah, she does…” you reply, reaching to the bar to grab the rest of your things before saying goodbye to Jesse and Dina. Upon leaving, you look over to see Abby on the other side of the bar. You watch as she pays for her beer and leaves from the other exit. The thrill and excitement starts to consume you already in seeing her again.

The cool air hits you once you exit the bar. You roam around the parking lot in search of her until you hear a faint whistling sound from behind. You turn around to see Abby’s prominent figure from a distance leaning on the side of her truck. You don’t approach her quickly though. Instead, you take your time walking your way towards her.

“Well, well, well…if it isn’t the bull tamer herself…” Abby says, taking her weight off the truck. “You looked good up there, you know…riding that thing.”

You smirk and take a step closer to her. “I’m glad. Wanted to put on a show for you there,” you tell her quietly, and she leans in to give you a kiss, the rim of her cowboy hat slightly brushing over the top of your head as your lips briefly connect.

“You know…” she tells you quietly, slightly separating her lips from yours. “I’ve got something else that you can take a ride on for me…”

“Oh yeah?” you whisper back to her. “And what might that be?”

“Why don’t you hop in my truck and find out?”

And with that you take a step back, letting Abby unlock her truck before opening the passenger door and entering inside. Upon opening the door, you couldn’t help but notice that the windows in Abby’s truck were slightly darker than the last time you saw it…did she seriously get her windows tinted?

Abby holds the door open for you, and you quickly climb inside and hop onto her lap before she closes the door and locks it, now confining the both of you inside. Your thighs wrap themselves around Abby’s lab and you push your hips forward over her crotch, just like how you did on the bull. You could practically feel the bulge of her strap under all that denim.

Abby lets out a soft groan at the sudden friction. “How about you get it wet for me first, yeah?” she says, reaching down to the lever on the bottom part of the seat and pushing it back to give you some space on the ground.

You don’t even think twice about it, instantly dropping down to your knees and unzipping her jeans before pulling the thick black strap out of her boxers. After seeing the sight of it, you were pretty shocked. You didn’t get a good look when she fucked you last time, but now that it’s in your hands, you’re amazed that you were able to take the immense length of Abby’s strap.

Your fingers wrap around the large piece of silicone before you lean into it, lips instantly wrapping around the tip. You gently suck onto the tip for a moment, then slowly work your way down to the base of the strap. However, your mouth couldn’t last being down so deep, so you briefly pull it back up to the tip before going back down, repeatedly continuing your movements thereafter.

Abby lets out a quiet groan as she feels the base of her strap rubbing against her clit. Replacing your mouth with your hand, you look up for a moment to see her head slightly tilted back, her cowboy hat obstructing her view as well.

You keep stroking her strap with one hand, spreading your saliva all over from base to tip to distract her. As you do that, you use your other hand to gently shift the harness to the side and sneak your fingers into the crotch of her boxers, instantly finding access to her wet pussy before sliding two of them inside.

Abby notices the sudden shift of movement and looks down at you. “What the hell are you—oh fuck—“ her words get cut off with a quiet groan as you begin to curl her fingers inside of her. “Oh fuck yeah, k-keep doing that…”

You smirk back at her as you continue to pump your fingers inside her, now fully diverting your attention away from the strap for a moment. Your other hand moves to keep the harness of the strap pushed to the side while you finger Abby’s pussy, and you look up to keep an eye on her every movement—the way her hands grip the seat of the truck, the moans and whines escaping from her mouth, and how her eyes were tightly shut and the head was thrown back in pleasure. You’d be lying if you said that the way she looked right now wasn’t turning you on because you can just easily feel your arousal pooling in between your thighs as you do this to her.

“God, fucking hell—go…go faster…” Abby whines out to you, tightening her grip on the seat as she manspreads herself farther on it to give you more space. You simply nod in acknowledgment, speeding up your pace inside her in a desperate effort to get her to cum.

You can visibly see her breaths getting deeper, and you can practically feel the way her cunt began to contract around your two fingers, knowing that she was getting close. Within moments, your fingers get instantly coated with her release as she cums around them with a loud groan. Her breathing soon slows down as she recovers from her orgasm and she looks back down at you. Your gaze stays fixed on hers while you slide your fingers out of her pussy and place them into your mouth, sucking them clean while you get a taste of her release.

“My god…” Abby pants out, still trying to catch her breath. “No one’s ever made me cum that fast before…you’re good at this too, you know.”

You smirk back at her as you sit back for a moment, briefly resting your weight on the back of your boots. “Looks like you’re not the only one who’s good at making a quick fix, Anderson.” the blonde simply shakes her head at you in response before patting her hand on her lap. “Your turn now, angel. Get on up here.”

Without hesitation, you slowly lift yourself from the floor of the truck and climb onto Abby’s lap in the passenger seat, her large hands quickly roaming up and down your hips as you do so. You watch as she scrunches up your skirt around your hips and brings one of her hands down to the crotch of your underwear, smirking once she senses the wetness underneath it. “Looks like she’s pretty eager to take a ride, don’t you think?”

You nod quickly in response, and you lift yourself to hover over the strap. Abby helps you out by shifting your underwear to the side and spreading your puffy folds open. You grab the strap with one hand to align it with your entrance while you grab onto Abby’s shoulder with the other to support yourself as you go down.

The tip meets with your entrance, and you whimper at the sudden stretch. Your grip on Abby’s shoulder tightens as you try to maintain your balance over her lap. And then, little by little…you begin to sink down her strap, all the way until your folds were pressing over the base of it.

Once the entire length was inside you, you used your other hand to grab Abby’s other shoulder for balance. The feeling this time was a little more difficult to handle in comparison to how Abby had fucked you at the bake sale. You weren’t bent over, nor did you have the support of the counter either. You were completely sat upright, in the confined passenger seat of Abby’s truck, with her strap so far inside you that she could visibly see the tip poking out of your lower stomach. It sure felt overwhelming, to say the least.

“Fuck…you look good for me like this…” she mutters out quietly as she runs her thumbs down your stomach, gently pressing onto the bulge that was being formed from her strap. She watches as you continue to stay upright, now squirming in her grasp as a response to the pressure she was giving to your stomach. “You know…it’s not gonna feel any better if you don’t move.” she continues, now bringing one hand further down to rub your clit. “Take a ride on it, princess…It’ll feel good once you start moving.”

Your eyes flicker down to the watch that was wrapped around Abby’s left wrist. You glance at the time.

10:39…10:40.

You take a deep breath and tighten your grip on Abby’s broad shoulders. As her hands remain planted on your body, you begin to lift yourself up before going straight back down. You repeat the process, now developing a slow pace on her strap.

Abby smirks as she looks up at you, watching every moan and whimper escape from your lips as you fuck yourself on her cock. “There we go, that’s it…atta girl…” her praises and coos continue, now leading you to move at a faster pace. As you begin to ride her faster, Abby notices how close your head is getting to the ceiling of her truck every time you go up. While keeping one hand planted on you, she quickly takes off her cowboy hat and places it on your head, fixing up the rim so she can still see you. “Prettiest cowgirl I’ve ever seen,” she mutters out quietly, placing her hand back onto your hip as you keep riding her.

As you keep riding Abby’s strap, you take a glance out the window, making you slow down to get a better look. You see some people leaving the bar and walking their way back to their vehicles, and your heart begins fucking racing when they pass by Abby’s truck, completely oblivious of the events that are happening inside it.

“Hey,” Abby squeezes your hip, causing you to direct your attention back to her. “They’re not seeing any of this, you know…” she pauses for a moment before continuing. “But I bet you want them to, don’t you? It’s obvious you enjoyed throwing on that little show back there at the bar earlier, so would this be any different?” she asks, leaning in to kiss you. “Would it be any different if those same people saw a pretty cowgirl like you slutting herself out for me like this? Riding my cock and making a mess all over my lap? Hm?”

You whine back at her, shaking your head. “Yeah, I knew you’d like that, my filthy little cowgirl…” she responds with a smirk. “But you see, that’s why I have all of my windows tinted now…because I don’t want anyone to see what’s really mine.”

Your pussy practically throbs at her words. You were so distracted by what Abby was saying to you that didn’t even realize that you had stopped riding her. Your arousal was now just soaking up her cock and jeans. Abby looks down at her lap and smirks before looking back up at you. “I didn’t tell you to stop now, did I?” she asks, giving you a smack on your ass. “C’mon, cowgirl…keep fucking riding me.”

Your pace now begins to quicken this time, and you move your left hand to the armrest that was above your head, gripping it as you keep your other hand on her shoulder. “F-fuck, Abby…f-feels so good….” you moan out to her, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment as the tip of her strap presses onto your cervix while you ride.

“Oh yeah? Does it feel good, princess?” she asks, admiring how you were starting to go dumb on her cock. “That’s it, keep riding me, just like that…Ride me just like how you were riding that damn bull.”

Abby’s words had your stomach doing fucking flips. You tried your best to maintain your fast pace as you rode her strap, but your legs were quickly starting to give out. “A-Abby, help me…please…”

“Aw, you poor thing, getting tired already now aren’t you?” Without any warning, Abby tightens her grip on your hips and begins to slam her cock right into you. You yelp in surprise as your left hand flies from the armrest back onto Abby’s shoulder, and you continue to push your hips down as Abby keeps thrusting inside you. “C’mon cowgirl, be a good girl and cum for me now…”

Your cunt begins to clench around her strap, indicating that you were about to cum. Abby looks down at your pussy, watching in awe as a white ring began to quickly form on her strap. Her thumb meets with your clit, quickly rubbing it as you continue to cum all over her cock, whimpering and moaning out her name as you do so.

As you finish riding out your orgasm, your pace begins to slow down and you rest yourself on Abby’s chest, panting deeply as you try to catch your breath. Before Abby pulls herself out, you grab her left wrist again and glance back down at her watch.

10:43…10:44.

“Four minutes,” Abby says, looking down at her watch. “Looks like you made a new record.”

You playfully push her arm back as she brings her hand back onto your hip and slowly pulls her strap out of your fucked out pussy, causing you to whine at the loss of it. Keeping you in her arms, Abby trades places with you and carefully rests your limp body onto the seat while briefly she gets onto the ground. She peeks through the fogged up windows, making sure that the coast was clear so she could get out of the truck.

As you watch Abby hop off her truck, your eyes start to feel heavy from the exhaustion before quickly fluttering shut for a moment. As your eyes were closed, you could feel Abby’s large hands move your body around before the sudden warmth of her tongue makes contact with your sore cunt, causing you to involuntarily jerk away.

“Hey, relax…I’m just cleaning you up a bit,” she mutters out to you. You simply nod in response, eyes remaining shut as your body eases in and relaxes into her touch again. The gentle movements of Abby’s tongue and lips on your pussy easily removes the tension in your thighs, making you feel as if you were now sinking into the leather of the seat. You then start to feel some shifting of your clothes along with the sounds of the truck doors opening and closing right before you briefly fall into a state of slumber.

The sudden rumbling movements of the truck cause your eyes to slowly flicker back open. You wake up to find yourself lying on your left side in the passenger seat, but now with the seatbelt secured over you. The dim lights of the truck are no longer present, only the faint brightness of the music player on the dashboard is the only thing illuminating your vision right now. The sounds of the few cars on the road surround you, along with the country music quietly playing inside as well. You look up to see Abby with her gaze fixed on the road, with one hand planted firmly on the steering wheel while the other simply rested over on the center console.

You rest your hand on top of hers, and Abby quickly notices that gentle touch of yours, briefly glancing down to look at you. “Hey there…” she says with a smile before looking back up at the road. “You were out for most of the ride, feeling any better?” she asks, gently enclosing your hand into her large palm.

You shift around in your seat, no longer feeling as sore as you were before. “Yeah, a little…” you tell her, resting your head back on the seat as you watch her drive. “I had a really good time tonight, you know…” you tell her, to which she smiles in response.

“I did too,” she replies, quickly looking over to you again. “Felt nice to finally escape from our dads for once.”

The speed of the truck soon starts to slow down before coming to a halt. Your heart instantly sinks to the pit of your stomach, and your smile begins to fade. You knew what this meant.

It meant that you were back home. Your time with Abby was now up.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and sit up completely to look over at the sight of your house. All of the lights were shut off, except for the faint blue light of the living room TV, and you could easily see your dad’s head tilted to the side, indicating that he was now asleep.

You let out a sigh. “I…I don’t want to go back in there,” you say, turning your head back to look at Abby. She simply sighs and gently rubs your shoulder. “I know you don’t, angel…but we can’t risk it. As much as I can’t stand your dad, I don’t want him to get worried about you either.”

Your head hangs low now, nodding in acknowledgment. Abby’s hand gently holds your chin to lift your face. “You know this won’t be the last time, right?” she asks you, to which you nod again.

“I know, I just…I’ll miss you, Abs…who knows when we’ll see each other again?” you ask back, looking up into her soft blue eyes. She nods back at you in response. “It’ll happen again soon, okay? Just know that I’m always gonna have you on my mind, alright?” she says before quickly leaning in to kiss you, the rim of her hat on your head brushing over her hair this time as she does so.

You instantly kiss her back before pulling away to grab your things from the ground. You take a deep breath and open the door, exiting the truck and closing it. Your boots now meet with the concrete of the sidewalk, and you walk your way to the front door of your house. Before you go in, you look back to see Abby watching you from her truck, and you two give each other a final wave before she drives off to park into the driveway of her house.

As the lights of Abby’s truck shut off now, you turn back to the door to unlock it. You slowly open the door just enough to squeeze yourself inside before closing it and locking it again. You turn around to see Joel fast asleep on his recliner while the TV screen illuminates the whole room. Without making a sound, you tiptoe on over to pick up the remote from the coffee table and shut off the TV. You set the remote back down and turn over to pick up a throw blanket from the couch to tuck your dad in before heading upstairs to your bedroom.

The door creaks slightly as you enter inside. You slowly close the door before letting out a sigh as you set your bag down on the ground before kicking off your boots. You take off Abby’s hat and set it on top of your dresser before the rest of your clothes come off of you and to the ground until you’re down to your underwear. You pick up a random oversized shirt from your dad’s company and throw it on. As you’re taking off your makeup, your phone buzzes on your bed, and you reach over to pick it up.

“Abby: I’ll be thinking of you.”

You look up from the screen to your right, seeing her broad silhouette in the bedroom window across from yours. The two of you stare at each other for a bit, until you wave her off and get into bed, to which she does the same right after.

Not only was this the first night the two of you had officially spent alone together, but it was also the first night where you both just couldn’t take each other off of your minds now.

And all you could do was just wait until your path meets with hers again.

- tags 🏷️: @nyctophiliq @lucidfairies @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @abbysfavewh0rx @lia-winther @grooviestcowboy @pretty-prrincess-13 @iwillkilyou @erinsdeluluworld @elliens4 @totallyghostdgirl @sirenbxby @bellaramslover @uraesthete @cherrycolouredflunk @whorn3y @thatonementallyillsimp @elliewilliamsmunch @gaptoothedlesbo @deadbolted @mochiivqi @floptron @swtsuna @naomis-daydream @hunnybunnyhazel @paprikahoernchen @bbglmfao @thesevi0lentdelights @mostlyhornyandsad @littlegingerperson @ur-fav-pixi @2busyfangirling @lmaoo-spiderman @olive-fics @onlinelesbo @piscesfairyyy @mrsandersons (striked means i couldn’t tag)

2024 © atomicami | all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

[celestie0]

MASSIVE gojo x reader fanfic rec (no spoilers)

ok i know a lot of my followers are gojo girlies and i just need to put yall onto this fucking fanfiction because i just read the latest release for it and i’m genuinely tweaking rn🧍🏻‍♀️

@lostfracturess ‘s amazing work called “symptoms & causes” - a medical au

[image pulled from her masterlist]

let me just…let me just try to even gather the reasons why you need to add this to your tbr lists (weekend is comin up too so perfect time)

characterization of gojo satoru.

gojo in this fic is characterized so fucking well, from chapter one. there are so many distinctive ways miss lostfractures goes about building his aura (word of mouth/reputation, dialogue, expository, primary interactions, secondary interactions, etc.) it reminds me of the show where gojo just has this energy to him that you can't tear yourself away from i picture him in this fic to be unrelenting, unforgiving, morally grey, with an undertone of softness yet still feral through it all,, basically gojo during shibuya arc LOL. i looove reading cute silly boy gojo fics sm (he’s so baby) but THIS fic explores the borderline wicked side of him that is so thrilling, unique, and rare to find i think in this fandom’s collection of works. it’s just so fucking good.

forbidden romance.

UGGHH i love stories w forbidden romance. in this one, it’s med student reader x professor gojo (additional power dynamics in that he’s a senior surgeon in her field and also a research mentor in her study of interest…TRIPLE THREAT DAMN). i love how miss lostfractures doesn’t shy away from reminding the reader that it’s wrong, and that they shouldn’t be doing this. that’s my fave part of forbidden romances like yesss remind me again why this is all so wrong but let’s still do it anyways LOL <333

reader’s voice.

i’ve LOVED reader since the beginning, so relatable, emotionally mature, all her flaws are so believable & her strengths are shown seamlessly. it’s just so much fun to read because i’ll literally have a thought like “hmm…that (something a character said/did) doesn’t sound very convincing” and then the next line will be something like “he didn’t sound very convincing” like!!! me and s&c reader?? we’re locked in like this fr🤞🏼 like gojo’s domain expansion fingers

escapism.

everything in this story feels so damn real it’s insane. the pacing is stunning, love the utilization of stacks of scenes that are sort of short but so concise, enough to be a smooth read but still descriptive enough to entirely transport you into the world that’s being built. cannot praise the writing in this story enough. also the variety of ways that scenarios are made that pull characters closer to one another?? so creative. as someone who works in a research lab, studied bio in college (some of the fkn biochem stuff that comes up in this fic gives me heart attacks lmfaooo pls im traumatized), and has worked in clinics/hospitals it just itches my brain so damn good. you’ll be convinced you’re a brilliant med student while you read this fic.

writing.

the writing is just. so. good. it’s so good. better than most PUBLISHED works i’ve read. i really can't say much other than that, you just have to go see for yourself.

—

if any of these reasons speak to you, i highly recommend you check the fic out. just a note tho it does have some dark themes but you can find all the tags/warnings on her page!

OK BYE

[sugrhigh]

BOY NEXT DOOR - ( c.s )

part two

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- swearing, drinking, no smut (yet 😁)

neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader

a/n: WELCOME TO MY FIRST REAL SERIES! i have a lot of ideas for this cuz i love this trope dearly so buckle up! more parts will come soon. also working on a tattooartist!reader x matt series (thank you anons) that will also be out eventually. in the mean time if you have smaller/specific reqs you’d like to see, my inbox is open babies! and if u just wanna say hello or ask a question i’m here xoxo

the music booms over the speakers inside the house next door, just like it always does on the weekends (and occasionally on thursdays too). it always drives you up a wall, but tonight it’s particularly bad.

you sit up slightly in bed, absentmindedly wondering who the fuck is on aux. you’re not sure why the thought crosses your mind, but you know it’s not chris, because these picks are horrendous.

it’s already past two in the morning, not to mention it’s the middle of the week. you haven’t been able to get a wink of rest, even with your headphones blaring at full volume. usually they do the trick, but tonight’s party is relentless, demanding to be heard.

wine wednesday, you think to yourself sourly.

neither of your roommates are home; they’re both off with their significant others, somewhere that’s not here, listening to fuckface and his friends get drunk.

you’re usually pretty passive about the noise, because they provide free alcohol for you guys when you show up and typically give you notice that they’re throwing something.

but tonight it’s just too fucking much. you’re tired, and groggy, and very much so still in your silky pajama bottoms and oversized t-shirt, but you don’t give a shit.

you jam your feet into some sneakers and grab a jacket, clutching it close to your chest as you head down the stairs to the main level of your own house.

you pass the dark living room, shadows leering in the corners as you’re guided only by the light coming from the street lamps outside.

you step onto the porch and the cold smacks you in the face, breath fogging up the air. it’s the middle of january in boston, and the expanse of dead grass between your houses crunches under your feet as you tread toward the front door.

the rest of the street is quiet, aside from the party. but they’re all senior hockey players, and it’s the beginning of their last semester, so what else can you expect?

besides maybe some basic human decency every once in a while. in fact, you’re so frustrated that you’re going in without backup, and without a real plan of any kind.

for some reason, once you get up the three steps to their door, you pause to knock. as if anyone would hear you over the music, or care enough to open the door for someone who’s fucking knocking.

so you twist the handle next, and it’s unlocked. of course.

it opens to a hazey front hallway that you recognize, stairs to the left hand side, blocked off by a young-looking guy you assume is probably a freshman on duty.

the front area is full of people, pressed against the walls, chatting over the music. well, more like yelling over it.

you can smell weed, which confuses you slightly. you know none of them smoke, not during the season at least. they usually don’t let anyone do it inside the house, so it must be an allowance for a girl.

you’re already getting strange looks as you step inside, which is fair. your shorts are hidden by the length of your shirt and jacket, so you’re just legs and shoes. you’ve got no makeup on, and you didn’t check your hair before you came.

but you swallow the lump in your throat, because it doesn’t matter right now anyways.

you shift your way through the crowd, gaze skipping over the people as you finally reach the dark living room. multi-colored strobes flash, lighting up the hoards of tipsy college kids dancing on the soaked wooden floor. furniture is pushed aside to make room, though the championship banner from last year still hangs on the wall.

his eyes find you before yours find him.

he stares at you across the tops of people's heads, standing by one of the couches that’s shoved against the wall. one of his roommates, connor, is leaned back on the cushions, watching the two girls they were talking to pass a joint back and forth.

but he’s no longer focused on anyone else, because he’s spotted you across the room, and he thinks this is the most disheveled he’s ever seen you. your angry eyes lock in on him seconds later, and they narrow instantly.

you beeline toward him, right through a group of people that are half-dancing along to the terrible playlist.

he lifts his eyebrows at your attitude, but not in fear. he’s actually a little impressed. his friends are watching you warily, just as confused as everyone else who saw you walk in.

he can’t help but stare at your legs as you finally reach him, admiring how cute you look in your pajamas, pale pink bottoms peeking out underneath your shirt with every step. he briefly wonders if you’re even wearing a bra.

then you open your mouth, and the fantasy is over.

“what time is it, chris?” you snap at him, one hand balled into a fist, the other clutching your phone.

“i don’t know, but i have a feeling you’re going to tell me.” he takes a sip of his drink to try and hide his grin.

it takes a lot of self control to keep yourself from slapping it out of his fucking hand, just because of how smug he looks. you hold up the screen to his face.

two twenty-two in the morning. chris almost laughs.

“the answer is way too fucking late to be having a party on a wednesday.” you reply, bringing the device back down to rest by your thigh.

“why didn’t you come? i missed you.” he pouts.

you glance over at the people on the couch, at the girls who are still making eyes at you as they converse with connor. he’s giving you a weird look too, as if no one could possibly understand why you’re here like this.

“yeah, sure you did,” you turn back to him, “now shut this shit down before i call the cops.”

chris puts his hands up in surrender, though he knows this is an empty threat just as much as you do.

“wow, somebody’s grumpy.”

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest self-consciously. “i’m serious. tell the puck bunnies to go home for the night or i’ll do it myself.”

he takes a tiny step closer, just a few inches, and yet it still seems suffocating. he looks too good, clad in a simple black tee and jeans, and he’s studying your face with the fire of a thousand suns.

“you don’t have to be jealous because other girls are here. you know you’re my number one.” chris replies easily.

even though his tone remains light, his expression is serious now. it enrages you more, that he thinks he has so much control over you.

“as if i give a fuck. i just want to sleep, so the choice is yours. police,” you wave the hand that holds your phone slightly, “or call it off.”

chris takes another sip of his drink, tipping it back so he can finish the rest of it in one foul swoop. then he nods his head, like he’s admitting defeat.

“fine. i’ll send everyone home.”

you can feel the relief creeping over you, knowing that you don’t have to actually get law enforcement involved. “thank yo—”

“on one condition.” he interrupts, and you furrow your brows.

“no conditions, chris. we’re not bartering right now.”

“come to the game on friday and we can hang out after for a bit. i’ll even give you a practice jersey to wear.” he offers, and the trademark smirk has reappeared on his face.

lights dance across his features, morphing his expression every few seconds. you just stare, because for once, you’re actually not sure what game he’s playing.

“what, can’t get a date without having to resort to blackmail?” you taunt, and he laughs.

“please, i don’t date. and i’d hardly consider this blackmail. just think of it as getting to know your friendly neighbor on a more personal level.”

there’s a humorous glint in his eye, one that’s daring you to say yes. what’s there to be afraid of? all you have to do is watch hockey, eat some popcorn from the concession stand, and deal with his attitude for an hour afterwards.

you’re still not sure what chris is getting out of this, or why he’s insisting that you need to be there, but at this point you don’t care. all you can think about is salvaging the rest of your sleep.

“alright, fine. now you have five minutes to get everyone out, and i better not hear any more shitty remixes for the rest of the week.” you point an accusatory finger at him and he shrugs, though he’s clearly content that you caved in.

“your wish is my command, princess.”

you turn on your heel to head back outside, retracing your steps from earlier as you slip through the mob. you half expect chris to follow, just because he’s annoying, but he doesn’t.

the overhead lights are coming back on now, and you can hear deep voices shouting, combined with collective groans from the crowd as they all realize they’re being kicked out.

luckily you make it out the front door first, and you jog back up the steps to your own place to get out of the cold.

you’ve only been inside for seconds when your phone buzzes in your hand.

chris

see you friday

sweet dreams ;)

[enhyhoonie]

DIET PEPSI (part 1)

Pairing: Racer!Sunghoon x female!reader

Genres: Serie, College!au, Racing!au, smut, ennemies to lovers, !nsfw!

Triggers: Bad language, illegal activities, smut

WC: 4.4k

A/N: I'm an inconsistent writer sorry about that :') I listenned to Diet Pepsi from Addison Rae and that's basically how i got the inspo lmao. THERE'S MORE DON'T WORRY <3

Synopsis : Sunghoon’s fingers traced lightly along my jawline, his touch sending shivers down my spine. His eyes were dark, almost predatory, as they locked onto mine.

“Still trying to play the innocent, huh?” he murmured, his breath warm against my ear. “Tell me, Y/n, is this really what you want?”

I looked away, struggling to keep my voice steady. “You think you know me so well. But you’re just playing games.”

A smirk tugged at his lips. “Games? Maybe. Or maybe I’m just giving you a taste of what you’ve been craving all along.”

I shivered as his hand slid down my side, his touch lingering with a mix of arrogance and seduction. “I’m not here to fulfill your fantasies,” I retorted, though my voice trembled slightly.

Sunghoon leaned in closer, his lips brushing against my neck. “Funny,” he whispered, “because it seems like you’re exactly where I want you. So tell me, how much more do you want to deny it?”

His words were like a caress, both maddening and irresistible. As his hands explored my body, the tension between us crackled with undeniable heat. I could feel my resolve slipping, leaving me to grapple with the dangerous allure of his touch.

“What are your plans for summer break?” Fia asked, tossing her clothes into her suitcase.

“I’m not sure yet… probably looking for a summer job,” I replied thoughtfully. “What about you?”

“I’m heading to my boyfriend’s place for the summer. It’s just a few kilometers from the dorm,” she said with a grin.

“You’re leaving me here?” I said with a mock pout. “It’ll be strange not having you around for two months.”

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” Fia teased with a mischievous smile. “I’m not vanishing completely. I’ll be back from time to time to work on some assignments, and we’ll definitely catch up.”

“Well, now that you mention it, I think I’ll focus on studying as much as I can this summer,” I said.

Fia rolled her eyes dramatically. “Come on, it’s summer break! The last thing you should be doing is burying yourself in books. We’re supposed to have fun!”

I frowned slightly. “I take my studies very seriously. Fine art has always been my dream.”

Fia placed a hand on my shoulder, her tone softening. “A little fun won’t ruin your grades. You’re the top student of your degree. You’ve earned a break.”

I paused, contemplating her words. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right…”

“Of course I am!” she said with a playful nudge.

Fia was right. From the start of the program, I’d poured my heart into being the best. My drive for perfection earned me a scholarship to the University of Applied Arts and a spot on campus. It was time to enjoy this well-deserved summer break.

“Oh, by the way,” Fia said, “this weekend, my boyfriend invited me to a car race he’s participating in. You should come with me!”

I blinked in surprise. “But isn’t that kind of thing illegal?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry. It’s not the first time they’ve done this, and it’ll be packed with people. It’ll be a blast!”

“Fia, I’m not sure—”

“No arguments,” she interrupted with a firm tone. “Consider it an order.”

I sighed, feeling resigned. “Alright, fine.”

“Who knows, maybe you’ll find a hook up,” Fia said with a teasing grin.

I winced. “No thanks. I’ve got more important things to think about.”

Fia just laughed and went back to packing. “Just saying!”

The weekend finally arrived, and with it, the excitement of the car race that Fia and I were about to attend with her boyfriend, Leo. Early that evening, Leo showed up at the dorm to pick us up. His sleek, matte black sports car gleamed under the streetlights, a perfect match for his look.

“Ready for the race?” Leo asked, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

I managed a nervous smile. “I think so. I’ve never been to something like this before.”

Fia squeezed my shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Y/n. Leo’s been looking forward to this for weeks. It’s going to be a night to remember!”

The drive took us out of the city and into a more rugged, secluded area. As we approached, the landscape transformed from urban sprawl to an open, abandoned parking lot illuminated by harsh floodlights. The place was alive with the hum of engines and the murmur of an excited crowd.

Leo parked his car and motioned for us to follow. We made our way through the crowd of racing enthusiasts and racers who darted around. The makeshift racetrack was set up in the lot, a stark contrast to the surrounding darkness, and it was buzzing with a palpable energy.

“I need to check on the car,” Leo said. “You two find a good spot to watch.”

Fia and I wandered towards the viewing area, navigating through the crowd. I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the scene. The smell of gasoline and burnt rubber was strong, mingling with the cool night air.

“Are you alright?” Fia asked, noticing my nervousness.

“Yeah, just a bit out of my element,” I admitted, glancing around at the throngs of people and roaring engines. “This is way more intense than I expected.”

Fia smiled and squeezed my arm. “You’ll get used to it. Leo’s really fired up tonight. And speaking of which, you should see the guy he’s racing against.”

Just then, a tall, imposing figure appeared near the track. He stood beside a sleek, silver racing car that seemed to glimmer under the floodlights. His presence was magnetic, and there was an effortless confidence in the way he carried himself. His dark eyes were sharp and focused, and he exuded an almost aloof air of superiority.

“That’s Sunghoon,” Fia whispered, her voice laced with a mix of awe and excitement. “He’s Leo’s biggest rival. Sunghoon’s undefeated, and Leo’s been itching for this challenge for a long time.”

I stared at Sunghoon, taking in his cool demeanor. He seemed unfazed by the crowd and the hype, his focus solely on the track and his car. The rivalry between him and Leo was evident, and it was clear that this race was more than just a competition—it was personal.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the floodlights cast an artificial daylight over the track, and the atmosphere thickened with anticipation. Leo emerged, his expression one of intense focus. He and Sunghoon exchanged terse words, their conversation filled with a competitive edge. Leo’s jaw was set with determination, while Sunghoon remained cool and composed, his demeanor almost nonchalant.

The night sky darkened completely, and the roar of the engines grew louder. The cars lined up on the starting grid, and the crowd’s excitement reached a fever pitch. With the night air charged with tension, the signal was given, and the cars surged forward with a deafening roar.

Fia and I found a good spot to watch, and I could hardly contain my excitement as the two cars sped around the track. The vivid lights of the floodlights made the scene almost surreal, the racing cars cutting through the darkness like shooting stars.

As the race unfolded, I was completely absorbed by the action. The speed, the noise, the thrill—it was all overwhelming and exhilarating. And as the race reached its climax, I felt a rush of adrenaline, caught up in the intensity of the moment.

The two cars were neck and neck, their speed creating a blur of lights and shadows. The crowd was on the edge of their seats, and the tension was almost palpable.

With a final burst of speed, Sunghoon’s sleek silver car edged ahead, crossing the finish line just inches in front of Leo’s black racer. The crowd erupted in cheers and applause, their excitement blending with the roar of engines slowly dying down. Sunghoon had won.

As the cars stopped and the cheers subsided, the announcer’s voice cut through the night air, amplifying the stakes of the race. “And there you have it, folks! Sunghoon is our winner tonight! As per the wager, Leo must now grant Sunghoon whatever he desires.”

Sunghoon stepped forward, his calm demeanor unshaken by the cheers and the spotlight. His voice was cold and blunt as he addressed the crowd, though his words were directed solely at Leo. “I want Leo’s girlfriend for the night.”

A hush fell over the crowd. The request was both shocking and humiliating. Leo’s face flushed with anger and frustration as he realised that Sunghoon was humiliating him by forcing Leo to give away his girlfriend to his rival, but before he could react, he turned to Fia and me.

“Fia, Y/n can I talk to you both privately?” Leo’s voice was tense, his eyes shifting between us.

Leo took a deep breath, his frustration evident. “I don’t want to give Sunghoon what he’s asking. It’s not right. But I need a way out of this.”

Fia’s expression hardened, her anger growing. “What do you mean, a way out?”

Leo glanced at me, his eyes pleading. “I’m thinking of proposing something else. Y/n will come instead of you Fia and I’m hoping he’ll accept this as a substitute.”

I felt a wave of confusion and anxiety wash over me. “Me? But why me?”

Leo’s gaze was intense and desperate. “If he accepts this, it might be the only way to avoid giving up Fia and not get humiliated even more.”

Fia’s face was a mix of anger and betrayal. “Leo, this isn’t right. You can’t just—”

Leo interrupted, his voice firm but strained. “It’s the only option we have right now. I need your help, Y/n.”

Fia’s eyes darted between Leo and me, her frustration evident. “Y/n, you don’t have to do this. It’s not fair to put you in this position.”

I was overwhelmed, feeling trapped between my own uncertainty and Fia’s distress. “I—I don’t know. This is all happening so fast. I don’t even know Sunghoon.”

Leo reached out, his tone softening. “Please, Y/n. I’m asking you to do this for Fia’s sake. It’s just for one night, and it’s the only way I can avoid getting humiliated and giving away my girlfriend to this jerk.”

Fia stepped forward, her voice trembling with emotion. “Leo, this is wrong. We need to find another way. Y/n shouldn’t be put in this position.”

Leo’s face was a mask of frustration and desperation. “I don’t have another option right now. If we don’t do this, it’ll only make things worse.”

The idea of stepping into a situation I wasn’t prepared for, and the pressure of Leo’s request, made me feel uneasy.

Leo could see the distress in both Fia’s and my eyes. Trying to calm the situation, he put on a reassuring smile. “Listen, I’ll handle this. Maybe that was too hasty of me, I’ll figure out another way to settle this without involving anyone we don’t want to. Just give me a moment.”

He stepped away from us, his expression a mix of determination and secrecy. I could see him heading towards Sunghoon, their conversation hidden from our view. Fia and I watched anxiously, both of us lost in our own thoughts.

“I hope he knows what he’s doing,” Fia muttered, her voice tinged with frustration and worry. “This isn’t fair to anyone.”

I nodded, feeling my anxiety grow. The whole situation felt like a bad dream, and I was unsure how to react.

Moments later, Leo returned with a more composed demeanor, but the tension was still palpable. Without a word, he reached for Fia’s hand. “Let’s go,” he said firmly, guiding her away from the crowd.

Fia looked at Leo in confusion and anger. “Leo, what’s going on? Where are you taking me?”

Leo didn’t respond, his grip firm but gentle as he led her away. Fia’s protests grew louder, her voice carrying through the noise of the crowd. “Leo, stop! What are you doing?”

My eyes darted around, searching for a way to help her. Just then, Sunghoon approached me, his expression unreadable.

“Come with me,” he said, his voice cold and commanding.

Before I could react, Sunghoon’s hand was on my arm, guiding me towards his car. The crowd had thinned, and the night air felt colder as he led me through the parking lot. My heart raced as I struggled to process what was happening.

“Wait, where are we going?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Sunghoon didn’t answer immediately, his focus on the car. As he forced me inside, he slid into the driver’s seat, starting the engine with a smooth, controlled motion. The low rumble of the car seemed to echo the turmoil inside me.

As we sped away, I glanced back towards the crowd, hoping to see Leo and Fia, but they were already out of sight. The weight of the situation settled heavily on my shoulders. I had been pulled into this chaotic mess, and I felt trapped and unsure of what lay ahead.

Sunghoon drove in silence for a while. The tension in the car was thick, and I struggled to find the right words.

“Where are we going?” I asked again, trying to break the silence.

Sunghoon finally turned his gaze away from the road, his expression still unreadeble. “To a place where we can talk privately. Leo’s plan was to avoid facing the truth. I don’t appreciate being deceived.”

I swallowed hard, trying to calm the frantic thoughts swirling in my mind. “Leo said he would come up with another solution. He didn’t want to go through with your original plan.”

Sunghoon’s gaze remained fixed on the road, his face still cold. “It seems he was less forthright than I thought. But here we are.”

As the car sped through the night, I felt trapped between the conflicting actions of Leo and Sunghoon. The night was far from over, and the uncertainty of what lay ahead was both thrilling and terrifying.

Sunghoon maneuvered the car down a winding dirt path, the headlights slicing through the dense forest. The rhythmic thud of the tires against the uneven terrain was the only sound breaking the silence.

He eventually pulled over in a secluded clearing, the car's engine humming softly as he shifted into park. The sudden quiet was almost deafening, and I could hear my own heartbeat thudding in my ears. Sunghoon’s fingers drummed impatiently on the steering wheel, his frustration barely masked by his cool exterior.

He turned to me, his dark eyes fixed with an intensity that made me shiver. “This wasn’t how I planned it,” he said abruptly, his voice betraying a hint of irritation. “I was supposed to take Leo’s girlfriend, not his friend. The humiliation would’ve been far more satisfying.”

He leaned back in his seat, his demeanor shifting back to its usual aloof and nonchalant state. Despite the situation, he seemed eerily calm, as though he was simply going through the motions of a routine rather than engaging in something deeply personal.

“Tell me,” he said, his voice smooth and almost casual, “have you ever done it in a car?”

I could feel my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. His question was blunt, and the way he asked it—so casually—made my face grow hot. I glanced down at my hands, fidgeting with the hem of my dress, unable to meet his gaze.

“I... no,” I stammered. “I haven’t.”

Sunghoon’s smirk widened slightly, though his eyes remained unreadable. “I thought as much. It’s not really your scene, is it?”

I shook my head, unable to find the words. The situation was surreal, and his casual demeanor only seemed to heighten my discomfort. I felt trapped, both by the physical confines of the car and the emotional weight of the night.

Sunghoon studied me for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “I suppose we’ll make this a first for you then,” he said, his tone almost indifferent.

The way he spoke made me feel like I was part of some game he was playing, and I couldn’t shake the sense of unease. The silence in the car felt heavy, suffused with an uncomfortable tension. Sunghoon’s gaze remained fixed on me, his smirk never fading. I could feel his eyes on me, as if he was assessing every nuance of my reaction.

“I guess this isn’t exactly your kind of thrill, is it?” he said, his tone dripping with condescension. “I mean, it’s clear you haven’t really lived on the wild side.”

“I’m not some... easy target,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the lump forming in my throat. “Just because I haven’t done something like this doesn’t mean I’m... I’m not bold enough.”

Sunghoon’s eyes glinted with a sharp, almost predatory light. He leaned forward slightly, his tone dripping with condescension. “Is that so? I just thought you might be too timid for something like this. You look like someone adamant to step out of your comfort zone.”

The way he spoke was calculated, meant to push my buttons and provoke a reaction. I could feel my pulse quickening as his words sank in, igniting a fierce determination within me. I wasn’t going to let him belittle me, not without a fight.

In a sudden, impulsive decision driven by a mix of defiance and desperation, I shifted my position in the car. Without fully realizing what I was doing, I swung my leg over his lap and straddled him, my heart racing with a mix of anxiety and adrenaline.

Sunghoon’s eyes widened in surprise, but the smirk on his lips remained. He looked at me with a blend of amusement and satisfaction, as if he had been waiting for this exact reaction. His hand rested casually on my hip, his touch sending a shiver down my spine.

“Raise the stakes,” he said, his voice low and almost amused.

The realization of what I had done hit me like a jolt. I was straddling him, the proximity making my heart race even faster. The initial burst of defiance was replaced by a sinking feeling as I understood Sunghoon’s manipulation. He had provoked me, played on my insecurities, and now I was exactly where he wanted me.

A wave of shame and anger washed over me, and I tried to push myself off his lap, but Sunghoon’s grip was firm, holding me in place. His eyes were cold and calculating, and his smile widened with satisfaction.

“You’re quite easy to manipulate, you know,” he said softly, his voice tinged with an edge of cruelty. “It wasn’t hard to get you to react. All it took was a little prodding.”

I was taken aback by his words, the sting of his taunt cutting deep. I had been tricked, my attempt to assert myself used against me. The realization made me feel vulnerable and exposed, and I struggled to maintain my composure.

“I... I didn’t mean to—” I started to say, but my voice faltered as I tried to regain control of the situation.

Sunghoon’s grip on my hip tightened slightly, his gaze never leaving mine. “It’s alright,” he said with a cold, almost pitying tone. “You don’t have to apologize. It’s just a part of the game. And now, you’re fully in it.”

Sunghoon’s eyes never left mine as he took in the flush of anger and embarrassment on my face. His smirk grew more pronounced, a blend of satisfaction and cruel amusement evident in his gaze.

“Since you’re so eager to prove yourself,” he said, his voice smooth and laced with taunting, “why don’t you give me a hickey?”

The request was unexpected, and I felt a surge of panic. The idea of doing something so intimate and, frankly, embarrassing in my current state made my heart pound even harder. I was overwhelmed by the situation, unsure of what to do or how to respond. I felt a growing aversion towards him, fueled by his manipulation and the way he seemed to toy with me.

But my pride was a stubborn force. I wasn’t going to admit that I didn’t know how to give a hickey, not to him. The very thought of telling him that was mortifying, and I refused to give him that satisfaction.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my trembling hands. “Fine,” I said, trying to sound confident despite the knot of anxiety tightening in my chest. “I’ll do it.”

Sunghoon’s eyes glittered with a dangerous, sensual light. He tilted his head slightly, exposing the side of his neck. His hand wandered from my hip to my back, fingers grazing my skin with a touch that was both deliberate and electrifying.

“Go on,” he said, his voice low and almost a purr. “I’m waiting.”

My heart raced as I leaned in closer, the heat of his body against mine making my breath hitch. I pressed my lips to his skin tentatively, trying to muster the courage to follow through with the task. The closeness was overwhelming, and his touch made it even harder to focus.

Sunghoon’s hand continued to explore my body, tracing along my back and the curve of my waist. Each touch was calculated, designed to heighten my discomfort and make the situation more intense. I could feel his fingers brushing lightly against the bare skin of my upper thigh, and it made me shiver involuntarily.

Despite my best efforts, I was inexperienced and unsure, and I could tell by the way Sunghoon’s eyes gleamed that he was thoroughly enjoying my struggle. I tried to apply pressure with my lips, but it came out more hesitant than confident. The feeling of his skin beneath my lips was foreign and unsettling.

When I finally pulled back, my face flushed with embarrassment and frustration. Sunghoon’s expression was a mix of amusement and mockery. He traced a finger lightly over the spot where I’d tried to leave a mark, his touch a lingering reminder of my inexperience.

“Not bad,” he said with a smirk. “Though I have to admit, it’s more like a soft nibble than a bite. You’re a bit too gentle.”

I glared at him, my pride wounded by his taunting. The way he compared my attempt to a bite only deepened my humiliation. I tried to ignore the heat rising in my cheeks and the ache of frustration that was slowly taking over my emotions.

Sunghoon's smirk never faded as he observed my flushed face. His eyes gleamed with a mix of amusement and something darker, something that made my pulse race. Before I could react, he slid his hand down to grab my ass, pulling me closer against him. The sudden move made me gasp, my breath catching in my throat.

"Let me show you how it should be done," he whispered, his voice low and laced with a dangerous edge. Before I could react, he pulled me closer, his other hand slipping into my hair and tugging my head to the side, exposing the delicate skin of my neck.

I barely had time to process what was happening before I felt his lips against my skin. The sensation was electric, his mouth hot and insistent as he latched onto my neck with a hunger that made my breath catch. His teeth grazed my skin, and the sharpness of it made my body tense, every nerves.

A low, involuntary moan escaped my lips as his grip tightened on my ass, pulling me flush against him. The way his body pressed against mine, the heat radiating from him, was overwhelming. My mind screamed at me to pull away, to resist, but my body betrayed me, responding to his touch with a confusing mix of fear and arousal.

He sucked harder, his tongue swirling against my skin, leaving behind a mark that I knew would be impossible to hide. The intensity of it sent a wave of heat pooling in my stomach, and I hated how much it was affecting me. Every touch, every movement of his lips against my neck, seemed to ignite something deep within me that I hadn’t known existed.

When he finally pulled back, I was left breathless, my heart pounding in my chest. Sunghoon’s eyes were dark, filled with a dangerous satisfaction as he surveyed the mark he had left on me. His thumb brushed over the spot, and I shivered at the lingering sensation.

"See? That’s how you leave a mark," he said, his tone dripping with arrogance. "You can’t just be gentle with everything. Sometimes, you have to take what you want."

I tried to mask my reaction, but the throbbing pulse in my neck and the ache in my core made it impossible to hide how his touch had affected me. I hated that he had turned me on, hated that my body had responded to him in a way that made me feel weak and vulnerable.

But most of all, I hated that he knew it. The triumphant gleam in his eyes told me that he had noticed every shiver, every gasp, and it only fueled his arrogance.

Sunghoon’s eyes softened slightly as he pulled back, his lips leaving a lingering warmth on my neck. He looked at me with a mix of satisfaction and something else I couldn't quite place.

“Well, that’s enough for tonight,” he said, his voice suddenly shifting to a more neutral tone. “I’m not going to push you further.”

His unexpected decision left me with a strange mixture of relief and frustration. I tried to steady my breathing, my cheeks still flushed from his touch. Despite the torment and the way my body had betrayed me, I snapped back, trying to salvage some shred of dignity.

“Why did you even need to do all this?” I asked, my voice shaking slightly. “Why did you have to—”

Sunghoon cut me off with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I was just having some fun. Besides, you made it pretty easy.” He paused, his smirk returning. “Where do you live? I’ll give you a ride back.”

Sunghoon drove me back in silence, the atmosphere between us thick with unspoken tension.

When we finally arrived at the dorm, Sunghoon parked the car and got out, walking around to open my door. I stepped out, feeling the cool night air on my skin. He looked me up and down, his eyes lingering on my rear with a smirk.

"You know," he said, his voice carrying a hint of teasing, "you have a pretty nice ass I will give you at least that."

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I felt a surge of humiliation and anger, my cheeks burning as I tried to compose myself. I managed to muster a glare at him, but my eyes were brimming with unshed tears.

Sunghoon’s smirk widened as he got back into his car. “Looking forward to us meeting again, Y/n.”

As the car pulled away, I stood there, feeling a mixture of relief and heartache. I fought back the tears that were now streaming down my face, the raw emotion bubbling up from within. The frustration I felt wasn’t just from the night’s events but from how deeply it had affected me.

It wasn’t just the emotional turmoil that left me in despair; my underwear was uncomfortably wet, a reminder of how Sunghoon's actions had affected me in ways I deeply resented. The realization of how much he had gotten under my skin only added to my sense of humiliation and frustration.

The streetlights cast a faint glow on the pavement, reflecting the tears that continued to fall from my eyes. It was in that moment, that I came to a clear and undeniable conclusion.

I hated him.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[thatone-brightstar]

The Bear & The Fox (Carmy Berzatto x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 11: Collateral Damage

Words: 5.8k

Summary: It's been a month since your breakup with Carmy and Syd wouldn't ask for your help unless they were absolutely slammed.

a/n: 1 more chapter + epilogue to go and I don't know what to do with myselffff!!!!

Thank you for sticking around thus far and commenting is always appreciated!

Heartbreak is a funny little thing. You can walk a delicate line all your life to avoid feeling it, but one way or another it’ll find you. It’s the eternal debate: To avoid all and spare yourself from hurt, but live a life of emptiness and quiet; or to welcome the pain like an old friend, at peace and knowing you never stopped trying. Everyone chooses a side at some point, but you’re never really spared from it. 

You’ve always hated the part of you that feels too deeply. The one that created stories out of strangers, wonder struck by microseconds of eye contact, then shattered when they step off the train. The one that no matter how many times was dolefully blown into the ground, it still believes in good grace and  happy endings.

“So yeah… That’s basically it since the last time I saw you.” You say, twirling the small ring with the aquamarine stone that you had stopped wearing long ago. You look up to the woman sitting across from you and ask “What? You asked me how I was.”

“And I wasn’t expecting a two hour monologue.”

“Well what did you expect? Haven’t seen you in months, I needed to vent…” You fight back.

You can hear the soft scribbles of her pen for a couple minutes and you make yourself comfortable against the soft pillows that fill up most of her couch.

“So, how long has it been?” She speaks again.

“Bout a month…” You sigh.

“And have either of you tried reaching out?”

“No, I-” You take a breath and ponder over the question, the single unanswered text weighing heavy on your phone. “I wouldn’t know what to say. Besides, I’ve been too busy with my paintings and helping out with the auction. I don’t really have time for… anything else. I-I guess he’s been busy too.” 

“But you still know what he’s up to?” She asks with raised brows.

You shrug with a single shoulder and chew at your thumbnail with slight nerves. “Syd talks about work sometimes, when we go out. But I think she kinda feels guilty for bringing him up. I told her it’s fine.” The woman looks at you skeptically through the small circular glasses. “I’m fine.” You half lie. “I am, it's just… The auction is this weekend and they’re catering so… I don’t really know how I’m supposed to feel…”

“Because you’ll see him again?”

“...Yeah.”

The woman calls your name again and you rip your eyes from the ring on your finger, heavy inside your own head to hear her question.

“So, is your set finished?” She asks to change the conversation.

“Mhm. It only took me a couple weeks to finish but -” Your smile curls slowly at the edge of your lips. “I'm really proud of them.”

“That’s great to hear.” She whispers with a genuine smile. “You know, heartbreak can also be a beautiful thing. It’s painful, yes, but it also gives a vulnerability we don’t regularly allow ourselves. It lets us create wonderful things. It’s all part of the human experience. It truly is nice to know you’re doing better, even after going MIA for months.” She says with a practiced tone mothers use to scold you.

She schedules you in for the next month and you promise to not bail this time, then walking out the office with your bag over your shoulder and a lightweight heart. The prospect of seeing him at the auction is still heavy on your mind as you make your way to the train station and the simple thought fills your chest like a crisp breath of air. ‘He could just send Syd’ you think and you try to not engage too much with the idea in fear that it may sour your good mood.  Instead you focus on your steady steps and people watching, ‘whatever happens, happens.’ you mumble under your breath.

**********

Syd’s call had pulled you from the comfort of your home before the sun was even visible over the horizon. Her worried tone had you waking up instantly and darting frantically around your darkened room in search of anything that could shield you from the increasing cold, then out the door and in the dreaded direction of The Beef. 

It’s been a month since you last spoke with Carmy and even though in the grand scheme of time, it’s only a mere speck of dust, to you it had felt eternal. Small snippets blur together into one long strenuous day, piggy-backing off your grief and pushing your shoulders deeper into the ground. You had called him a few days after in hopes that you could talk things over, but it went straight to voicemail. So you left a text that you anxiously waited an answer for the following days. All of a sudden, one week turned into two, then three and before you knew it, a month had gone by without a response. You kept busy picking up most of the planning to avoid any crossing thought of him, only allowing yourself to break with your canvas in front and acrylics to spear. 

You had done enough to convince yourself you were fine, that even if he were to show up tomorrow and not send Syd on his behalf, you'd be fine. 

Fine. Fine. Fucking fine. 

Everything was fucking fine until this morning when Syd had called to ask for help at the restaurant. Richie had been arrested, the place was a mess and they were behind on prep for the event tomorrow because they were lacking hands. Protesting would only lose you time that they did not have, so in place of that you settle to ignore the treacherous wormhole vacuuming out the few remains of confidence you had saved for tomorrow as you wait for the train that’ll leave you on River North Station.

Twenty three minutes later, you're walking at a brisk pace through the streets with a thick knot for a stomach and a growing unease. You push through the door and stop in your tracks at the shock and disarray of the place.

“What the fuck? Ugh-” 

The potent smell of alcohol is the first thing that invades your nose, along with the stickiness of the floor the deeper you walk into the room. There’s solo cups scattered everywhere and half working Christmas lights hanging loosely over the walls. Some frames from the front wall lay broken, spewing shards of glass all around the tiles.

“Mi amor, qué sorpresa!” You hear Tina’s voice from behind the counter and you slowly walk towards her, the small pieces shattering under the weight of your boots.

She hugs you tight and kisses your cheek. “Tina, what the hell happened in here?! It smells like the fuckin’ Hangover…”

“Ay baby, don’t even get me started with these knuckleheads-”

You take another woeful look around, then follow her inside as she recounts the little information Sydney gave them from the frantic phone call she had with Carmen. How they rented out The Beef for a bachelor’s and Richie had knocked out some drunk while defending Carmen’s ass. It’s strange to you, the pair’s relationship. How they were always ready to rip each other to pieces, but would jump to save the other without a second thought. They said they couldn’t stand one another, but you’re sure they’re something either can’t live without.

“So what, he’s in for aggravated assault?” You ask.

“Only if the guy wakes up.” Marcus answers with a broom in hand, sweeping away remnants of glitter and tinsel.

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Could be 5 to 25 for accidental manslaughter…” Sweeps chimes in while carrying a full trash bag to the back.

Your throat closes up and behind your concern, you hear Marcus ask Sweeps how he knows so much about the matter. ‘Bro, I told you. I went to Harvard Law…’ ‘Oh yeah…’

You breathe in  deep while maintaining the possibility of his release still in your mind and you head to Syd’s side, pulling your hair up into a ponytail automatically. 

“Alright, brigade’s here. What d’you need?” You say after a quick hug hello.

“Guess you know more about it than I do…”

She’s flipping through the binder with all the recipes and images of the canapes they’d be serving, the one you helped Carmy assemble all those months back. Despite a few scribbles and notes at the foot of some recipes, it’s practically the same. You bend the corner lightly on the last page to find the miniature ‘C’ surrounded by purile hearts and your morning coffee grows knotty in your gut.

“Is he…” You try asking, but the sentence loses power half way through.

Syd seems to catch your drift. “No, no. He’s been down at the station since dawn.”

You nod absentmindedly with your eyes glued to the page. 

“Okay, um. Marcus left the sourdough for the tapas rising all night yesterday, so we have a good start on that-” Syd began and you pull all your attention to the task at hand. “Beef’s already bracing in the oven but it’ll take a couple more hours. You can start with the ginger- tangerine compote. That’ll go on the brie.” She says, handing you one of the blue aprons. 

“Alright, heard.” The words feel unnatural rolling off your tongue after being away from a kitchen for so long.

She leaves you in search of Fak, urging him to finish fixing the backed up sink in the Steward section. You drown out the bicker and hastily make your way into the walk-in, throwing the apron over your head and tying the back securely around your waist. It’s almost as if the familiar pressure unveils a dormant sensation and you soon find yourself navigating with ease through the skills you thought forgotten. The knife feels at home under your palm -heftier than a paint brush but still requires the same level of  concentration- as you separate the tangerine supremes and add them to the pot holding clarified butter, sugar and rosemary leaves. Everyone works in a rhythmic but comfortable silence, a stark difference from the frantic, unmeasured mess they seemed to thrive in when you still worked here. 

“Yo chef?” Marcus calls from your left. 

You lift your head to him while you finish peeling the ginger. “What's up?”

“Mind tasting this for me? It’s for the gig but somethin’ bout the filling don’t feel right…”

You nod and wipe your hands on your rag, then take a bite into the miniature stuffed doughnut that doesn’t seem bigger than an Oreo. The flavors are too thick to tell them apart but  the softness of the dough allows it to almost melt in your mouth. 

“The dough’s perfect-“ You say between bites, the compliment blooming over his face into a grin. “How bout a different filling though, there’s a lot going on and you can’t really enjoy the texture.”

“Right!? See, that’s what I was thinkin’. Got anything in mind?”

“Mmm, you could try a chai cream filling.”

“Just milk and cinnamon, then?”

“Yes and also no” You answer with a smile. “Try to steep some black tea in milk with cinnamon and ginger. Then instead of sugar, add honey to your crème and the chai milk. It should be a little bit more runny so when it cools it doesn’t get that jelly-like consistency from the egg.” You finish then turn back to peeling off the skin of the ginger with your spoon. 

Marcus is still standing beside you with a pleased smile. “You really know your stuff, huh? Thought you was burnt out.” and you lightly hit him over the arm with the back of your spoon. 

“Oh, I can totally smoke your ass baker boy..” You grin.

Before he can fight back, a sudden commotion by the entrance has you lifting your head above the second level of the table and searching for the noise. The slick handle of the spoon  almost slips past your hand when your eyes capture the image of two very sleep deprived Carmen and Richie walking through the staff door. You can see everyone showering them with attention, how Tina hugs Richie tight then smacks him hard over the head, but the loud ringing in your ears and the sudden rush of cold blood prevent you from moving any closer. Not that you’d want to anyway. You try to pull yourself together, wiping your clammy hands for the tenth time and watching them advance deeper into the room. Richie’s the first to spot you and true to his nature, he lets the whole room know that he’s seen you, with outstretched palms in your direction.

“Oh, shit! This a fuckin’ family reunion?!” His hand falls heavily over the crown of your head and you swat it away with a smack.

“How’s prison?” 

“Oh, y'know…free food, can’t complain.”

“D’you get yourself a bitch?” You tease.

“Yeah, brought ‘em home, actually-” He says pointing back to Carmy, causing the forming grin on your face to fall when you see he’s been watching you. You pull your eyes from him and back to your cutting board. “Oh right, my bad…”

You shake your head, mumbling a sharp ‘asshole’ through gritted teeth. Richie takes off to the back and you’re finally left at peace.

You fall into a pronounced balance of chopping and continuously stirring the compote, until it reaches the needed consistency and you pull it off the fire to cool. You check it off Syd’s thoroughly organized list and scroll down to find the next task, then make your way back into the walk-in. With a bowl resting on your hip, you pick out a few pears you’ll need, then hear the creak of the metal door open and you assume it’s Syd coming in to take a breather from the frenetic kitchen.

“Yo, I’m gonna start poaching the pears. You’re out of red wine but I can run to the corner store and try to flirt with the clerk to knock a few bucks off a bottle-”

The slick bowl almost slips from your grip when your eyes catch his. A chill slithers from your neck, down your spine and wraps around your knees, rendering them uselessly immobile as Carmy just stares you down through tired lids. The room grows uncomfortably smaller with the two of you locked inside and you're afraid that he can hear the irregular tempo in your quickening pulse. You wonder if the slight shock in his brows is due to not knowing you were in there. It only flashes for a second, then his features conceal behind a curtain of indifference, making your stand straighter.

“H-hey.” He says with a feign coolness as he wraps his own apron around his waist and moves deeper into the room, as if it’s the most natural thing to find you between the inventory of his restaurant.

You turn back to the shelf so he doesn’t notice the multiple quivery inhales it takes for your voice to sound somewhat even. “Syd asked me for help, that’s why I’m here I-”

“No- yeah, I get it- I wasn’t-” He cuts himself off and takes a breath that has your wavering stare slowly inching towards him. “Thank you…”

You finally turn to him, only holding his stare for a second, then give him a tight smile and wrap both arms securely around the bowl that wants to slip from your clammy palms. His lips part and you wait for anything else to leave his mouth, maybe a ‘How’ve you been?’ or a ‘Can we talk?’. But nothing does and you try to not let it sting as much as it normally does when you get your hopes up. You take a reluctant step towards the door, then another and another, only stopping when your name vibrates in the concealed room.

“Yeah…?” You turn with a full chest.

He holds an unopened bottle of wine in your direction, face blank. “Bottom left shelf.” He says, shrugging.

“Oh. Right.” You take it without meeting his stare so he doesn’t see the grief slapped across it and quickly push yourself out the space.

You spend the better part of half an hour peeling the thin skin off the pears and letting the simmering wine and spices fill the kitchen with a strong sweetness. Carmy’s presence looms around the room as he checks in with every station on their progress, but doesn’t stop with you. All you get is a soft ‘Behind’ and the tingling sensation of his touch on your lower back as he passes by. You don’t know if it’s on purpose or not, although it doesn't really matter to the breath that stops in your throat when he does it. ‘Just finish this and you can leave.’ you repeat to yourself. Though you know you won’t, at least not until they’re up to schedule, even if every second sharing the same space withers at your soul.

You do your best to focus on your task, only talking to Tina when she gently squeezes your forearm to ask if you're okay, because your brows are glued into that permanent scowl that only displays your irritation outward.

“Yeah I, um- just got a lot on my plate.” You tell her and try to not let it trigger the tears you’ve hoarded in the back of your throat.

“No te hará sentir mejor-” She whispers to your side. 

“-Probably not-”

“-pero él está igual de miserable que tú. Really baby, you should have a talk with him, y’know, straighten things out.”

“T, ni siquiera me ve a la cara…” You whisper back. “How am I supposed to straighten anything out if he won’t even look at me?”

“Ay, baby I know. But I’ve known that stubborn boy all his life and let me tell you, since he came back from Madison Square Park -or wherever the fuck-, he was all different and… bitchy. And it wasn’t ‘till you came along that he finally felt like the Carmy we all knew before… pues ya tu sabes.” She says in reference to his brother.

“You two are good for each other, but you’re both stubborn as hell… talk it out, okay? Don’t lose somethin’ good ‘cause you're stubborn.” Tina rubs your shoulder reassuringly then with a final smile. she turns yelling ‘Corner!’ and disappears behind the tall stands.

You swallow down the aching knot and distract yourself with the slippery fruit in your hands.

“Can I..?” You see his hands before hearing his voice, as he lightly places a white cutting board a few feet away from you. You eye the curves of discoloring letters above his knuckles, then force your stare back to your own working hands and shrug.

“Sure… your kitchen.”

He only nods, from your side view you see how his eyes linger on you for a few moments then fall back down. The air between you feels thick despite the music playing from the hoarse stereo and a light layer of conversation from the staff. There’s a heavy pressure over your chest that only seems to expand with every silent minute passing between you. 

Then Carmy clears his throat. “How’s-uhm- your set.. for the auction?” 

Confusion and irritation brew in synchronicity with your wine and you try to hide the annoyance his question brings you. He acts as if he’s just seen you the day before, as if things had ended with a friendly handshake and a mutual agreement, not with him breaking up with you and completely vanishing from your life.

“It’s fine.” You turn to the burners and stir the pot slowly to keep it from burning and also to avoid his heavy gaze.

You taste it to make sure the flavors are correct then turn back to finally finish peeling the last of your pears. Carmy stares at you like he wants to say something else, but just contemplates the seriousness of your features and the flow of your hands as you move the peeler in a frenzy. Each stroke grows closer to your skin and he just feels the need to warn you.

“Careful you’re gonna-”

“Mierda!” You hiss, dropping the handle immediately and cradling your palm under the injured one. “Hijo de puta!”

He’s by your side in a second, with his clean towel hovering under your hands and taking the fruit that you crushed involuntarily when the pain closed your fist. 

“It’s fine- I’m fine.” 

“No you’re not, you’re bleeding-”

“I said I’m fine!” You pry your hand hard enough to hear a slight pop from your wrist.

Carmy’s hands fall to his sides and you divert your gaze to the floor walking to the nearest sink to clean your wound. You hiss again when the warm water hits your palm and a gash at the bottom of it is finally visible. Fucking perfect. You scrub remnants of puree and blood off, until the water runs a light pink and you're relieved to see it won’t need stitches. A gauze and some tape will suffice, so you wrap it in some paper towels to avoid dripping and march to the small office where you find the kit. The quicker you move, the faster you’ll be out of the confined space that makes you feel like a vulnerable prey. But your fingers tremble from the light sting and the edge of the wrapper isn’t cooperating with your dull nails. Tiny droplets of blood pool in the center of your palm, the frustration grows too quickly and you slam the unopened gauze flat on the desk.

“Fuck!”

‘It’s fine, you’re fine.’ The voice in your head circles through the same phrase, pretending that the sudden proximity of him didn’t unearth something you have tried so hard to bury down for the last month. You thought you could be mature enough to ignore the crushing weight settling over you with every stare, but the wisps of frigid indifference that radiated off him wrapped a tightening noose around your neck and you weren’t sure how long you had until it finally killed you. 

A soft click pulls your attention from the crimson in your hand. Carmy stands with raised palms, inching slowly towards your intense glare, then reaches out a hand as if trying to help a wounded animal. Which in a way, you are and the joke forming in your mind about the bear helping a fox would be rather funny if you weren’t so immensely upset with him.

With a ragged sigh, you turn in the small space and stretch out your hand to him, eyes locking on a painting on the wall to evade his stare. You ignore the furor of goosebumps that invade your skin the second his touch is on you. Carmen’s hand holds you in the cocoon of his fist, thumb rubbing delicate circles beside the battered spot while he uses the paper towel to soak up all the blood. You reprimand your wayward beats for their reaction to his innocent touch and you have to constantly pull your wandering gaze from reaching the dangerous borders of his tightened jaw. His deep exhales fan the baby hairs resting at the bottom of your neck, his attention fixed on the small imperfection. His movements are slow, asking each muscle for permission to move the next, because having you this close after so long is a luxury he does not want to rush through, not if he’s never getting it again. 

Carmy understood your anger. He could feel it radiating off you in waves that bounced in the small space, but he also understood that he’s never had enough words to properly express the turmoil of everythingness swirling constantly inside his head. He wanted to let you know how hard it had been for him too. Confess the unhealthy amount of time he was spending at the restaurant- only going home to shower then leaving again- because he was afraid of the scent of your perfume and how it lingered on every breathable space in his home… apartment- not home- at least not since you had gone.

He focuses on swabbing the sanitizing wipe tenderly in hopes that his actions can transmit what he can’t say. The alcohol makes you hiss again and his eyes flicker to your frowned brows, mumbling a soft ‘sorry’.

He only lets go to tear open the gauze and some tape, then takes you in his grasp again to wrap your palm up safely. You expect him to let go once he’s done. To create as much needed space to fit the betrayal he portrayed the last time you saw him, this would only explain why he never called back. But he doesn’t. And he doesn’t look up at you either. Your stares meet on the flesh where his thumb still brushes over the blood-stained pit, your chest raises in slow puffs and the uninjured hand grips tightly over the edge hitting behind you. This is all too familiar again, right down to the brewing anxiety trickling heat into your overworked veins. You can't help but to foolishly crawl your pupils over the navy blue of his apron, past the strained tendons of his neck, the sharpness of his nose and to the beautiful blue you had missed so much.

Neither of you notice how the space has reduced to mere inches between you until his eyes flicker to yours and every single speck is bright and visible for your admiration. He swallows down hard, the Adam's apple bouncing in his throat portrays his nerves openly to you. The last reasonable, minute voice in his head tells him to pull away, but the way you’re staring up at him has his body tilting in your direction instead. Eyes wide and glossy dance around the freckles dusting his cheeks, causing his hand to float from your wrist to the dip of your waist and his forehead finally falls against yours.

You gasp in softly when his fingers dig into the center of your spine while his nose brushes along yours longingly. You can feel his sultry exhales ghost over the curve of your parted lips with doubt still present in his movements.

“Carmy…” The voice is above a whisper and you’re not sure you even have the strength to utter the sentence that’s formed in your head.

Your voice seems to trigger something in him. His jaw hardens, his fingers bunch up your shirt in a light fist and just as quickly, his grip on you loses strength and his hand falls to rest beside your fisted one. Then a grave sigh parts his chest and he takes a painful step back, unwilling to lift his eyes from the ground.

It takes a minute for you to react, then the butterflies in your stomach turn to wasps swarming in dangerous circles, unable to fly out due to the knot blocking your throat. He’s eerily silent, eyes glued to the floor to ignore your fiery glare.

“Sorry, I…” 

You scoff and shake your head, blinking rapidly to pull back the tears threatening to spill with your anger.

“Screw you, Carmen.” You untie the apron as quickly as you can with your injured hand and throw it at his desk before walking out of the small room.

With strong footsteps, you take your bag from above the lockers and escape out the back. The door slams hard as you push yourself out, Carmen following behind but by the time he calls your name you’re already a couple steps ahead.

“Fox!” He yells and you spin in his direction with nothing but anger over your face.

“Listen, I’m sor-”

“No-fuck you- you don’t get to talk, alright?! It’s my turn.” He takes a step back before crashing into you, jaw locked tight and regardless of the deafening ring in your ears, you refuse to bite your tongue again.

“Look Carmy, I am truly sorry that I didn’t tell you earlier and I’m so sorry that I’m here instead of your brother- but that does not mean you get a fuck-it-all free card and get to pull shit like that!” Tears of anger trickle down your heated skin and tickle the curve of your trembling lips.

“I called you Carmy…” The words burn as they force themselves to spill out. “I called you, and I texted you and I waited cause I knew you were pissed - and you have every fuckin’ right to be- but it doesn’t give you the right to kick me out of your life one second, then act as if everything’s fine the next, cause it’s not!”

The sounds of the city have grown mute between your heavy breaths and the erratic beating in your skull. You don’t expect him to answer and he doesn’t seem to have anything to say. He simply stands before you, eyes glossy and brows knitted as you bare all that you kept since the last time you saw him.

“I know you’re scared. And I know you’re angry and whatever this is-was-” You say pointing between you. “I know it didn’t come at a right time. But I meant what I said, Bear, I do love you. So fucking much. But that doesn’t mean it’s fair of you to take it out on me cause you’re angry at him… I refuse to be collateral damage for whatever the fuck you got going on.”

The weight over your chest might have shrunk, but it didn’t make you feel any less better than before, especially not with the way he’s looking at you. You want nothing more than to run to his side and kiss away the few stray drops that nest in the corner of his red rimmed eyes. You want to hug him tight until the loose pieces of his brokenness stick back together into one whole man, but the last of logic inside you knows that it would only serve as a temporary band-aid. So instead you offer a speck of a smile, just a soft curve that doesn’t reach your teary eyes.

“I love you, Carmy. So I dunno, give me a call when you sort it out- I know it’s more of a ‘when’ than an ‘if’ situation-… I think I’m stupid enough to answer.”

Carmen watches from his frozen position as you rub the tears away with the back of your hand, then the gravel crunches under your boots and in a few seconds you disappear around the corner. 

He has enough energy to slump over the crates by the wall and pull the crushed package of smokes from his back pocket. While the wisp of smoke swirls in the wind around him, he rubs his eyes until the image of your tear-soaked face blurs away behind the darkness. The gravel creeks again, heavy steps move from his left then settle with a groan beside him.

“I’m not in the mood, alright?” He says, eyes focused on the street at the end of the alley.

Richie doesn’t say anything, only takes out his own cigarette and joins his cousin in silence.

“Is there, um-” His voice is thick and wavering, barely holding on to controlled breaths. “Is there a name for… when you’re afraid of somethin’ good happening cause you think somethin’ bad’s gonna happen? ”

His thumb rubs anxiously over the same spot on his palm as he waits for Richie’s response.

“Fuck it, I dunno… life?” He takes a long drag, letting the exhale occupy the empty space in front of them. “That bad, huh?”

“Yeah…” Then the silence falls over them again.

When his cigarette burns out, Carmy reaches for another, but before he can settle the lighter back down, Richie pulls out a small envelope from the pocket of his jacket and hands it to him. Carmy’s reluctant to take it, his eyes flicker between his cousin and the piece of paper, then he slowly reaches out.

“What’s this?”

“It’s from your asshole brother… R.I.P and whatnot.” Is all he says.

His hand trembles again, his breath short circuits and a new wave of dread nips at the back of his neck. He swallows hard and breathes in deep, bracing himself, before turning it over. ‘This day just keeps getting better…’

Chapter 12.

Taglist: @pearlstiare @teteminne, @beebslebobs, @harrysmatcha, @yum-yahgurt, @pussy-f41ry, @kirakombat and that’s it lmao

[https-harlow]

Fight The Feeling Part 15- Vacations & Questions

Summary- Jack surprises you with a trip to the Bahamas after you talk about the engagement ring he had given you from when he wanted to propose.

You were shocked. Jack was going to propose to you. You knew you would have said yes, but you never got to because instead of proposing, he cheated.

After Jack left, you spent the night eating what some might consider too much ice cream, and crying to whatever cheesy rom-com was on TV. Truly giving into what you had wanted to do for most of your pregnancy. 

The next day you decided it would be better to talk to Jack sooner rather than later due to his upcoming White Men Can’t Jump promotion. 

Jack came over as soon as you called him, both of you sitting on opposite ends of the couch.

“Why did you cheat if you were going to propose?” You asked you had had a similar conversation before, but you wanted to know what changed.

“I mean, it’s the same thing I told you before, I guess I can go into more detail if you want?”

“Yeah, I think I want you to,” You told Jack, you weren’t sure you wanted to know, but you felt that you needed to.

“Alexa found out that I was going to propose to you. Urban later told me that he thinks she was listening in on a conversation I had with him about it. After that, she tried to convince me that you were cheating on me. I know how stupid I was for even entertaining the idea, but remember that one fight we had about the time I invited some friends to stay with us for a couple of days that I had off but you just wanted to relax for the weekend?” Jack asked and you nodded.

“It was after that fight that she really got into my head. I know it’s not an excuse, but she leaned into the rumors you were dating that one model. I knew they weren’t true, but then you were pictured with Urban getting lunch. She had to have known it was Urban, and I should have, but I was stupid and I just assumed it was someone else when she didn’t tell me it was Urban. From there it just progressed into me knowing I was going to lose you, so I just, didn’t stop,” Jack explained and you sighed softly.

“Thank you for being honest with me. I really appreciate it,” You admitted. “Just so you know, if you hadn’t cheated, I would have said yes,” You said and Jack smiled to himself.

“What did you think about the ring? Did I do good picking it out?” Jack asked, both of you laughing softly.

“Yes, it’s really pretty, I’ll be keeping it for sure,”

“So, I was thinking,” Jack said. “I might have booked us a little baby moon to the Bahamas. You’re done with work until after the baby comes, I’m basically done since I’m doing no promo for the album and I just have a few virtual interviews to do for the movie, so I thought it would be good for us to get away for a few days.”

“Really?” You asked, surprised. Jack nodded.

“Yeah, I figured we always used to go there when we were dating, so we should go one more time, just us two before we go as a family.”

“Oh, you’re already planning family vacations?” You teased Jack and he laughed.

“Maybe.”

A couple of days later you and Jack had landed in the Bahamas. 

Jack didn’t plan much for this trip, he wanted it to be relaxing, not a trip full of excursions. He had only planned one thing.

The day you landed was spent at the house Jack had rented, a lot of naps, laying out by the pool and you took a relaxing bath. The second day, you and Jack ventured out to the city, doing a little shopping before making your way to the beach for the rest of the day.

The third day was when Jack had made plans. The first half of the day was spent relaxing before you and Jack got ready for a dinner reservation he had made.

Jack had a driver pick you both up from the house and drive you to a restaurant that was on the beach. Jack reserved all of the outside beach seating for the two of you. You and Jack were led to your table, there was a bouquet of flowers lying in your seat, along with candles surrounding your table.

Jack stepped forward to grab the flowers and pull out your chair before you could. 

“These are for you,” Jack said, handing you the flowers, you smiled as you took them. 

“Thank you,” You said as you kissed Jack on the cheek. You sat down and put the flowers to the side after admiring them. “This feels a lot like a date,” You said teasingly. 

“And how would you feel if it was?” Jack asked nervously.

“I’d like that.”

“Good. I was hoping we could kind of start over.”

“Well, I think it’s about eight months too late to start over,” You teased and Jack laughed softly.

“Not even start over, just take things slow, but get back to date nights and things like that.”

“I think we should too,” You smiled as the waiter came over to take your orders, and you waited for him to walk away before speaking again. “You know, when I found out it was you I was fake dating, I thought this was going to be the worst thing ever. I think that if anything, it brought us closer.”

“If I was told a couple of months ago that I would be sitting across from you on a date, I wouldn’t have believed it,” Jack said, both of you laughing.

“Me neither,” You agreed.

The rest of dinner with Jack made you feel like you used to. Of course, you already knew you loved Jack, but you didn’t realize how much you missed the small things, your inside jokes, and, how Jack would laugh at any of your jokes, no matter how stupid they were. You’re relationship finally felt like it was back to how it used to be.

After dinner, it was starting to get late so you and Jack went to the car to get your jackets and you put your flowers in the car. You decided to take a walk on the beach. 

You walked hand in hand, making small talk when Jack stopped walking, making you turn to him.

“Is something wrong?” You asked and Jack shook his head.

“No, nothing’s wrong,” He reassured you. “I wasn’t planning on doing this here, and honestly, I didn’t have any plans for this, but it feels right. Our relationship is weird right now, we’re together, but not officially. So, I thought I’d change that. Will you officially be my girlfriend again?” Jack asked and you nodded.

“Of course, I will,” You smiled, and you and Jack kissed, wrapping your arms around each other before continuing your walk on the beach.

While you were in the Bahamas, Jack had planned for the nursery in your apartment to be completed. He knew it was something you were stressed out about and he knew what you wanted it to look like. Jack got some of his friends to put the nursery together.

You and Jack walked into your apartment after you got home from the Bahamas. 

“Okay, so, I have a surprise for you,” Jack said as he set your bags down.

“What now?” You teased, Jack laughed and grabbed your hand, leading you to the nursery.

“I got some help on the nursery while we were away,” Jack said as he opened the door, revealing a nursery that was as close as he could get to the pictures you had been sending to him.

“Jack you didn’t,” You said, your eyes tearing up. “Thank you so much,” You looked around. You wanted to keep things fairly neutral since you were renting your apartment and you had been recently thinking of buying a house. You still wanted pops of color in the decor and Jack had pulled it off.

“I might have had a little help from a designer, but I came up with most of it by myself, and then my friends came and put everything together,” Jack admitted. You wrapped your arms around his neck, gently pulling him down for a kiss.

“Thank you so much, I love it.”

“I’m glad you do, and I’m glad I can call you my girlfriend again,” Jack kissed you again.

Tag list @jackharloww @harlowcomehome @nattinatalia @hoodharlow @itsyagirljaz @heavyhitterheaux @harlowsbby @awhore4moree @harlowslefttoe @twerkforambrose @jackmans-poison @ilovenudy @taniapri @killatravtramp @easternparkway @macey234 @toocriticalharlow @lightsoutstyles @rachxc13 @iknowdatsrightbih @idktbh101 @blossomluvv @middlechild404 @hufflewhore128

[angel-in-your-basement]

hey I hope this isn't too personal but your blog kinda made me realize I'm a sadist and (possibly?) a domme? having lots of feelings about this revelation so I kinda have an odd question as like: how does one get over like cognitive dissonance with regards to self conception? sorry if that's worded weird but like, I'm a huge massive softy with like, hyperempathy type brain nonsense so its kinda hard to imagine myself actually like *as* that kinda person. I'm aware soft-domme type stuff exists but idk like how to put it together in my head? sorry if this is a lil incoherent I just woke up lol. thank you for your kink education stuff and I hope your weekend goes well ^w^

(also any general starting out safety tips are greatly appreciated cuz ngl I'm very in over my head and wanna nip any hazards in the bud before I try experimenting)

Hi there! Not too personal at all, I’m happy to talk about stuff like this. I meant to answer this sooner but I’ve just been too damn busy irl, so here I am now!

When we are presented with new information and our beliefs are not making sense anymore, it’s time to sit down and reevaluate those beliefs. If you haven’t already, I would go look at this post, which goes into more depth about shame and questioning ideas about kinks. Since that post covered shame, I won’t go into depth on here, but we are going to talk about beliefs.

Why does this happen?

What is generally happening in cases like you’re talking about, is that we have formed ideas about ourselves (ex. “I am a big softy + hyperempathetic person”) and about the world (ex. “Sadists are tough/mean/scary/whatever”), and then we create logical conclusions based on those ideas (ex. “I couldn’t be a sadist, because I am soft and not tough/mean/scary”). Which works fine until we get new information that contradicts our conclusions.

What do we do?

When that happens, and we want to resolve it, we gotta find some flexibility in those beliefs! In your case, this might look something like this:

What is “that kinda person”, and exactly what parts don’t fit for you? What parts do fit?

Where did the “that kinda person” idea come from?

Is this always the case? Are sadists 100% like that?

What might someone look like who was very empathetic and ALSO a sadist? How do you feel about the idea?

Why might it actually make sense that someone empathetic would be a sadist?

The whole point here is get a good idea of where the conflict is, why it’s a conflict and then looking for areas of flexibility.

I can’t answer those questions for you, but here is a couple things from my experience that may be useful. I have known a lot of sadists, and just like every other group of people, they vary widely, but my favourite sadists have always been the people who are big, empathetic teddy bears who want to take care of me and coddle me just as much as they want to hurt me. I, myself, am like you, where I am very empathetic but I also very much enjoy psychological sadism.

Part of it, too, is that it just takes time to warm up to these new ideas, and you don’t need to go straight into the hardcore stuff. You can integrate sadism with basically any other kink, and sadism can look a ton of different ways. If it’s more that you like the idea of seeing someone struggling or being afraid, then even stuff like giving someone pleasure or taking care of them can be sadistic. And if you’re more into the actual act of inflicting pain, then you can do it in ways where people are enthusiastically encouraging you the whole time, if that’s what you need. You can also be a sadistic sub! Honestly, I think that’s the wonderful thing about kink - there’s a million ways to mix and match, and cater your experiences to exactly what you like.

Re: starting out safety tips, I think there’s already lots of good resources on this, so look into things like negotiation, safewords, SSC/RACK, red flags, etc. This post is already getting long so I’ll just say one thing that I don’t see talked about enough.

When you’re exploring new stuff and especially new relationships/dynamics, it’s very easy to get swept up by the emotions of it, particularly if you’re a people pleasing type person. All of the bad experiences I have had have stemmed from this - from being too excited and not being able to look at the situation rationally. So imo, it’s important to have clear boundaries for yourself (i.e. I will not do any sex stuff with someone until we have talked about xyz), and to have a plan to keep yourself safe that works under the assumption that you will likely be too enamoured to want to pull yourself away from the dynamic. Having platonic kinky friends really helps with this stuff! What all that actually looks like is a whole other discussion, so I’ll save that for another day.

[suzukiblu]

Look we all know the existence of certain risks of things like child stardom, mediocre adult supervision, and people who go for specific kinds of positions of authority being fucking bastards, SO: there is an unnecessarily involved omegaverse AU in my head where Rex Leech takes way, WAY worse advantage of a freshly-decanted omega!Superboy in order to pay off all of that money that he owes to assholes, and instead of JUST betting on metahuman fights and making shitty investments and selling Superboy's likeness to anyone who's buying and all that, he kinda just . . . gives Superboy some "tips" for how to win over or get favors from certain people in the entertainment industry and similar fields. Or just anyone Rex is trying to wring some cash out of, basically.

So Rex makes better money! Pays off a couple of debts! Is still irresponsible and shitty with it and making stupid decisions, but look, a couple extra bucks never hurt, and the Kid is fine with it! ‘Course he is!! 

And this read-more will DEFINITELY support that POS POV! Definitely!! For sure!!!!

And so not-even-technically-presented, definitely-not-legal Superboy is hanging out with and being encouraged to FLIRT with skeevy older people and general creeps who are taking full advantage of this naive teenager with Superman's face every chance they get. Superboy doesn't know better, and he trusts Rex; the guy can be a little sleazy sometimes but he's still watching out for him, so . . . this is normal, right? And Rex says they REALLY need this investment/this opportunity/this money, so . . . 

So like, Superboy gets abused and doesn't have the frame of reference to understand it. He really doesn't like that part of this gig, but Rex says it's important and, well, if it's just this once . . . if he already did it last time . . . if it'll only be a night or two, or maybe a long weekend . . .

It's not technically prostitution, but also Rex absolutely DOES just fucking sell the Kid a few times and repeatedly justifies it to himself with crap like "he's a teenager, he's a horndog and a flirt anyway, and obviously he likes the attention" and other fucking awful bullshit like that, because he is more concerned with the money than, idk, anyone’s mental health?? Though he doesn’t mention it to anybody who’s not a client, obviously, Roxy’d kick up a fuss and Moon might get territorial and talk the Kid out of it, and Dubbilex, hell, he doesn’t even understand how show business WORKS!! 

But of course word DOES get around about it, just a little, and then it starts happening more and more often, and Superboy likes it less and less and starts to halfway HATE it, honestly, but Rex keeps saying it's IMPORTANT and NEEDS done and just . . . 

He gets–used to it, kind of. Almost. 

It’s just how it is. 

And then like, hand-wavey convoluted I’m-still-undecided-what-exactly shit happens and Superboy somehow ends up in alpha!Lex's official custody, probably through Lex bribing a lot of people and committing some fraud and shameless lies, and Superboy assumes . . . alright, well, he guesses now he's like a fucking kept boy or something, huh. He doesn't like that idea at ALL, but at least Luthor's only one guy. And he seems like the jealous type, so he probably won't wanna share too much. Right? 

So that could be worse, Superboy guesses. 

Lex, an oblivious supervillain who is actually NOT aware of what kind of way worse advantage Rex was taking: this is great. I’m going to get a good grade in clonefather, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve, and then we’re going to conquer the world. >:3 

Superboy, simultaneously: . . . seriously, I’ve been here like a WEEK already, is he gonna fuck me or NOT?? 

And thus ensues a not-actually-funny comedy of errors where a traumatized kid keeps expecting to get abused and even Lex FUCKING Luthor is not that much of a prick and therefore totally misses literally every sign of the Kid trying to follow the appropriate “script” with him. Hm, Superboy wants attention for some reason, fine. MERCY, get the kid a black card to entertain himself with. 

. . . now the kid wants attention even MORE? 

baffling. 

Superboy, internally: if he keeps buying me all this stuff he must REALLY want something BAD, but where the fuck else would I go anyway, so . . . 

Lex: I’m putting on a movie and reviewing my files in your general area. Congratulations on receiving my attention, now don’t interrupt me. 

Superboy: . . . . . . what is even happening right now. 

And then a very peculiar experience of very slowly accidentally making a pack happens to both of them, wherein Superboy did not expect a dad out of this kept boy scenario and Lex did not expect an actual PUP out of this world domination plot and they’re both increasingly bewildered by everything the other does.

[atlafan]

No Complaints - Part One

a/n: hellloooooooo the fic you’ve all been waiting for is finally here. Based off these posts, you all wanted a full fic, so as per usual, first part on here, the rest on patreon. I don’t think I’ve ever written this much smut in one fic, so buckle up. I honest wasn’t sure what I wanted to name this fic. I kept calling it ‘happy himbo’ but that didn’t work. He’s sort of just like a polite dirtbag, but with an endearing twist! You’ll see the theme with “no complaints” throughout the fic. I spent way too long on this banner. I photoshopped that bottom half onto that woman and I also created that entire wall because I’m insane. ANYWAYS PLEASE REBLOG AND LEAVE NOTES AND COME TO MY ASK BOX AND JUST PLEASE GIVE ACTUAL INTERACTIONS WITH THIS PLEASE I’M SO TIRED also there are some strong sex and the city inspired vibes

Warnings: just...a ton of filthy smut, anal, public sex, dominant and submissive vibez...just...yeah

Words: 11.6K

Tumblr Masterlist I Patreon Masterlist I Ask

With the way Layna’s cheeks went bright red when she glanced at the text that just came in on her smart watch, each of her friends put down their forks and stopped paying attention to their delicious brunch food to ask her what just got sent to her, and by who.

“Who just made you make that face?” Christine asks with a smirk.

“Hm? Oh, no one.” Layna waves her off. “Anyone want another mimosa?”

“Don’t change the subject.” Serene says. “Is it a guy?”

“It is, but it’s no one special.”

“Then you can tell us what it said.” Michelle says.

“Please don’t make me show you, it’s embarrassing.” Layna groans.

“Wait, is it the himbo from your gym?” Christine asks excitedly.

“What himbo from your gym? You’ve never mentioned a himbo from your gym.” Serene says.

“Okay, okay. There’s this really hot guy that works at my gym. He’s sort of like a trainer, but he does other maintenance stuff too. We’ve hooked up a couple times. It’s not a big deal.”

“What makes him a himbo?” Michelle asks.

“Um, well…” She looks down at her phone and flips it over. She unlocks it so her friends can see the text he sent her. “He is a big fan of emojis, types with the worst grammar, and well…he’s basically just a polite dirtbag.”

Her friends all look disgusted as they look up from Layna’s phone.

“I’m sorry, but why are you bothering with this idiot?” Serene asks.

“Because the sex is incredible. I don’t think a guy has ever made me orgasm as often as this guy has, and he’s so attentive. He’d go down on me for hours if I let him.”

“When and how did this all start?” Christine asks. “Because the last you told me about the dude was that you just thought he was cute, but you hadn’t even spoken.”

“Alright, I’ll start from the beginning. But I need more alcohol.”

**

A few weeks ago…

Layna started going to a new gym. She could afford to go to a better one with more space that is closer to work so it’s easier for her to go after a long day. It helps to clear her head. The life of an art dealer seems glamorous, but it’s a lot of work. You are constantly schmoozing with artists to get them to have a show at your gallery, and then you have to market that show to all the right people to make sure the art is actually bought. Not to mention working with a catering crew, lighting experts, and having to smile the entire time because you need the commission from the sales. It’s a lot of long hours and working on the weekends. So having a good gym close by that Layna can go to on her way home is super helpful.

The locker room is extremely clean and sanitary. There’s even a steam room! Not that Layna has a huge desire to sit naked in a pool of her own sweat with a ton of other naked women around her, but a good steam after a particularly grueling workout is nice. The lockers are spacious enough for all her things. She changes, wipes her makeup off, throws her hair up into a high pony and makes her way out to the main area.

Layna likes to warm up on the treadmill. She doesn’t run, but she works her way up to walking at a faster pace and at an incline. She only does about a mile, it’s enough to get her muscles warm and ready for the strength training portion of her workout. She doesn’t love using machines. She never feels like she knows what she’s doing, but it can be boring to do the same things with the same weights. She keeps looking over at the leg extension machine. It seems simple enough, but she’s honestly a little too scared to use it. So she doesn’t.

She sticks to her normal routine, goes for a relaxing steam, and then takes a quick shower before getting ready to go home. As she’s leaving, she notices a very cute guy going around wiping down machines and collecting rags and towels people have left behind. He’s wearing a shirt with the gym’s logo on it, so she assumes he works there. He looks up and over at her, making eye contact for only a moment, but the way he grins at her makes her blush and smile nervously back at him before leaving.

She goes most days after work, and it’s the same thing. She does her usual routine, but looks off at the machines she’s too afraid to use. It takes about a week of stolen glances, but by Saturday morning, when there are less people around, the very cute guy approaches Layna before she can take any weights off the racks.

“Hi.” He says. “You’re a new member here, right?”

“Yeah.” She nods, smiling. “Is it that obvious?”

“No.” He chuckles. “I work a lot of hours here and I hadn’t seen you before this week, so I just assumed. I hope this doesn’t come off as creepy, but I see you looking around a lot. Is there something you want to try that you might feel too nervous about?”

“Oh, gosh.” She slides a hand down her face. “Yeah, I want to try some of those leg machines, but I hate being the person that takes up time learning how to use it when other people are waiting. They’re sort of intimidating.”

“You’re allowed to take up space, so don’t worry about that. It’s less busy today, I could show you how a few things work if you want.”

“Are you a professional trainer?”

“You mean do I have a college degree in athletic training with a ton of certifications? No, but I am a personal trainer, and I do have the certifications to train others. We all learn how each machine works so we can teach you all.”

“Alright, then, yes I would appreciate some help. Um, what’s your name? You’re not wearing a tag or anything.”

“M’Harry.” He extends his hand, and she takes it to shake.

“I’m Layna.”

“That’s a really pretty name.” He smiles. “Come on, I’ll show you the leg extension machine first.”

Harry has Layna sit down, and he goes over what a good amount of weight to start is his, and how many reps she should do how many times to see improvements. She’s a little embarrassed using it since he’s watching her, but she calms down a little when he gives her shoulder a squeeze and tells her she’s doing it perfectly.

“Is it alright that I just touched you? I should have asked first, I’m sorry.” He tells her after taking his hand away from her quickly.

“It’s fine! I don’t mind if you touch me.” She says with a flirtatious glint to her eyes that he picks up on right away.

She does fifteen reps, three times, then Harry takes her to the leg curl machine. She’s in a much more compromising position now because she’s laying on her stomach with her ass in the air and the backs of her legs have to lift up the weight. Harry watched her form, but wasn’t shy about checking out her ass either. The third and final machine he shows her is the hip abduction/adduction machine. He explains that there are different muscle groups worked depending on if your thighs are on the inside of the pads or on the outside.

Opening and closing her legs like this in front of him really shouldn’t have been such a turn on for either of them, but it was. The eye contact was strong, and Layna could feel herself getting worked up. When she’s done, she wipes off the machine, but makes no move to walk away from him.

“I don’t usually advertise this, but one of the perks of working here is that we get a private bathroom that you need a key to get into.” He tells her lowly so no one else around will hear. “If you grab your stuff to shower and meet me by the employee door on the inside of the locker room, I can let you in.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.” She nods.

“Yeah?” He asks for confirmation. “You want to fuck me?”

“Jesus!” She shushes him, making him laugh. “Yes, you didn’t have to ask.”

“I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page and that you didn’t think I was just going to let you have a more private shower.”

“I understood from your tone. Give me five minutes to grab my things.”

Mid-morning delight isn’t something Layna takes part in very often, but this guy is fucking hot, and he wants to fuck her, so she’s going to let him. She gathers her things and discreetly makes her way to the employees only door at the back of the locker room. Harry cracks it open just enough to see her, then opens it fully to let her in. She follows him down the hall past a large laundry room, and to the right. He scans his keycard on the lock and opens the door for her. When he closes it, he flips the lock so others will know the bathroom is otherwise occupied.

There is a stall to one side with a toilet, and a large sink counter across from that. Harry goes to turn the water on in the large shower on the other end of the room. Layna sets her gym bag down on the counter. Harry comes up from behind her, wrapping his arms around her torso as he starts to kiss on her neck. Normally, she would care that she was sweaty, but she made sure to wipe her neck down and pat it dry before meeting him at the door. He sucks a bruise into the space behind her ear, causing her to gasp and hook her around his head to tug on his hair. He presses himself against her ass, and she feels how hard he is.

Harry parts from her and turns her around. They launch at each other, teeth clanking as they kiss, each wanting to get their tongue in the other’s mouth. Harry’s hands are all over Layna. He grips the hem of her shirt and pulls it off of her. They clumsily make their way over to the shower as they continue to strip each other of their clothes.

“Wait!” She says just as he’s about to rid her of her leggings. “Shower shoes.”

“Oh! This bathroom gets cleaned like five times a day, it’s all good.”

“Okay.” She nods and lets him proceed.

Once they’re both naked, Harry all but throws Layna against the tile wall of the shower. They’re both under the water, which makes her feel better about his mouth exploring her chest. She nearly loses her balance when he starts sucking on one of her nipples.

“What’s okay and what’s not okay?” He asks her after leaving a nasty bruise on the top of her breast. “Where can I touch?”

“You can…you can do whatever.”

“Layna, I wanna know what makes you feel good or this won’t be any fun.”

“I want you to use me however you like. You can touch wherever you want.”

His lips slot over hers as his hand makes its way between her thighs. His fingers rub through her folds before slowly inserting his middle finger up inside of her. Her head falls back against the tile, and Harry takes the opportunity to kiss on her exposed throat, working his way to the crook of her neck to bite and suck on. She reaches between them to start fisting at his cock, swiping over the tip to spread his precome. He groans into her hot, wet skin, and bucks into her hand. He slips his ring finger inside her, and lifts one of her legs up to rest on the hinge of the arm he’s not using to thrust.

“We need to be sort of quick, so I’m sorry if this gives you whiplash.” He warns her.

At first, Layna is very confused. If he has to fuck her quick and hard, then that’s totally fine. This doesn’t need to be a whole two-act production. She figured since he lifted her leg that he was getting ready to stick his dick in her, but that’s not what he did. Once his fingers were sunk deep inside her, he took a deep breath and started pumping into her at lightning speed. Which, usually that would not feel good, but his fingers pet and drag against her front wall as he’s thrusting in and out, so it feels incredible. He’s not even doing anything to her clit and she feels like she could come from this alone.

“Jesus, fuck!” She nails sink into his shoulders as she holds onto him.

His mouth crashes to hers, probably to help keep her quiet. He swallows every moan, every whimper, every muffled grunt of his name. She’s not sure how his arm isn’t getting tired, but she’s not complaining. No, she feels good, so fucking good, better than she’s ever really felt, and there’s the most perfect amount of pressure in her lower stomach.

You would think with the sound of running water and the fan in the bathroom going that you wouldn’t be able to hear much else. But Layna can hear how wet she is. There’s a squelching sound with each thrust of Harry’s fingers. It’s making her dizzy. She moves to bury her face in his neck so she can breathe a little easier. Her nails are now digging into his back.

“Doing so well being quiet for me.” He says into her ear. “Next time we can go somewhere less public so you can let out all those pretty noises.”

“I’m getting close.” She warns him.

“I know, I can tell.” Normally something so arrogant wouldn’t turn Layna on, but for whatever reason, Harry’s cockiness is doing it for her. “You’re dripping down my wrist, you know that, right? You’ve squirted like two times already.”

“Please, I...Harry, I need to come.”

“So come.” He nips at her earlobe. “Come for me.”

That was all the encouragement she needed. Her back arches, and it feels so good that the noise that falls from her is silent. Everything goes white. She can tell that she’s gushing around him. He takes his fingers out to watch the rest of it drip out. He slips them back in, almost in a tender way, just cupping her pussy and rubbing it to soothe her and help her calm down. He sets the leg of hers he was holding up down and kisses her.

“That felt amazing.” She breathes. “Want me to do you now?”

“Please. Just jerk it, you don’t have to put your mouth on me this time.”

Layna nods, happy to not be blowing him. She usually prefers to kneel on a pillow, not hard, solid tiles. They continue kissing and licking and nipping at each other while she pumps him. She ends up using both of her hands, and she swears she could have come again from the way Harry moaned in her ear. She lets him come on her tummy, and even scoops some up on her finger to suck on, just so he would have no doubt that she’s a good girl.

They clean each other up and get out of the shower. Harry watches as Layna pulls herself together, and slings her gym bag over her shoulder.

“So, can I get your number?” Harry asks her as he opens the bathroom door to lead her out.

“Um, sure.” She blinks. “Just for sex though, right? I’m not really looking for anything serious right now.” They walk out to the main area of the gym. It’s gotten busier.

“Yeah, just for sex. I’m not looking for anything serious right now either.” He runs a hand through his slightly damp curls. “I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you since you started coming in. You’re so sexy.”

“The…the feeling is mutual.” She tells him, feeling her cheeks heating up. “Here’s my phone, you can put your contact in.”

Harry takes her phone and creates his contact. “I just put ‘H’ as the contact name. That’s what most people call me.”

“Cool.” She smiles. “So…I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah, see you around.” He smiles back.

He seemed nice enough, and he turns her on, so Layna felt good about her new fuck buddy. There’s no harm in it. They’re both adults, if they want to stop, they’ll stop.

**

“I’m sorry, you let a strange man finger fuck you in a completely secluded area?” Serene asks.

“Yes.” Layna confirms. “It was like something out of a sex novel, you know? I wanted him, and he wanted me, so I figured what the hell?”

“Have you hooked up since?” Michelle asks eagerly.

“She sure has.” Christine grins.

“Why does Chris get all the juicy gossip?” Serene asks.

“Because she’s the least judgmental out of the three of you. Besides, I haven’t actually told her anything, she just has a sixth sense for this stuff.” Layna answers bluntly. “I knew you wouldn’t approve of me being so reckless, and I knew that Michelle wouldn’t approve of what he does for work.”

“Well, if you’re just fucking him, then it doesn’t matter. Just don’t catch feelings and continue seeing men with good jobs on the side.” Michelle shrugs.

“Why is being a personal trainer not a good job?” Christine asks. “He knows everything about the body, that’s hot.”

“He doesn’t know everything. He just knows how to train people. He never went to college or anything like that.” Layna explains. “Which is fine. That’s all I really know about him. We don’t talk unless we’re fucking.”

“Do you fuck at the gym a lot?” Serene asks.

“No, that was the only time. He didn’t want to risk getting in trouble, which I totally understood.”

“I’m dying to know more, so please continue.” Michelle says.

“Okay, so the second time it happened was about a week later…”

**

Hey, u up?

It was Friday, now technically Saturday since it was two in the morning. Layna would normally be asleep, but she was at work late for a show at the gallery, and she was still feeling riled up from that. So she texted him back.

Hey, yeah I am

Wut r u up 2?

Layna furrowed her brows at the text. Is he drunk? Who over the age of sixteen texts like this? She panics for a moment. What if he’s only college aged. She’s twenty-nine.

That depends…how old are you?

29 how old r u?

Twenty-nine

So r u dtf or nah?

Yeah, wanna come to my place?

Send me the addy

Layna can’t believe she’s about to let a guy who texts like this come over and fuck her. But he made her come so hard last week without even touching her clit! And she gushed and gushed. She wants to see what he can do without a time constraint.

Twenty minutes later, Layna is unlocking the door to her apartment. She lives in a four-story walk up, and she’s on the fourth floor. It’s a pain going up and down the stairs all the time, but she gets the rooftop all to herself, so she can’t complain too much.

“Hey.” Harry gives her a ‘sup’ nod as he comes in. He’s wearing an orange hoodie and black basketball shorts. “Where’s your bedroom?”

“Hi, um, it’s right over there – oh!”

He had picked her up and thrown her over his shoulder. He finds her bedroom and tosses her onto her bed. She had put on a cute set of pj’s, a silk spaghetti string top and shorts to match. But she realizes she could have been in a paper sack and Harry still would’ve fucked her. He peels his sweatshirt off before climbing onto the bed. His lips are on hers only seconds after that.

Layna likes the way Harry kisses. He’s needy and aggressive without it being too gross and sloppy. His tongue is soft and precise, and his lips are smooth and easy to bite at. He definitely uses chapstick regularly. He tastes like mint, like he had just chewed a fresh piece of gum, and he smells woodsy with a hint of cinnamon. It’s all doing wonders for her.

His hands slide up under her shirt and he gropes at her breasts. He tweaks her nipples and grinds himself into her, making her gasp. He’s already so hard. He must be sensitive. That’s hot. He pushes her shirt up over her breasts and wraps his lips around one of her nipples. Her fingers card through his hair as she arches into him. He kisses down her stomach and drags her shorts down her legs.

“I’m glad you didn’t leave your panties on. Next time just open the door naked.” He smirks as he pushes her legs open. “You good if I eat you out?”

“Mhm, yeah. I want you to use me, remember?”

The lights in the room are dim, but still bright enough so Harry can see what he’s doing. He licks up her slit with a long drag of his tongue, then he spits on her before doing it again. Over and over, he kitten licks at her, getting her wet with his spit and her own slick. Even though it feels good, Layna is about to tell him her clit is a little higher up, but she doesn’t get the chance. He found it on his own. He looped his around her thighs, and yanked her to him before he started sucking on her clit.

“Oh, fuck that feels good.” She fists at her blankets and throws her head back.

His tongue flicks back and forth on her clit, then he goes back to sucking on it, welling up his spit every so often to keep her clit wet and comfortable. One of his hands smooths up her stomach, landing on her chest. Layna takes the hint and sucks on his middle and ring fingers. When she’s done, Harry brings them down to her center and sinks them inside. He moans against her when he feels how wet and warm and tight she is.

“Are…will you…shit.” She can’t even speak.

“Tell me what you need, baby.” He says lowly, giving her clit a breather while he continues to fuck her with his fingers.

“Will you make me squirt again?” She whimpers. “It felt so good the last time.”

“Yeah? You like getting pounded into hard?”

“Mhm.” She nods. “It feels so good when it hurts a little.”

Harry grins wickedly at her, then brings his mouth back down to her clit while he gives her fast, shallow thrusts with his fingers, finding her g-spot easily. Her hands find his hair again and she tugs hard on his roots. Her hips roll up towards his face, but his free hand pushes down on her lower stomach to keep her in place.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come!” She cries out as she makes a mess around his fingers. He moans as he licks her clean and sucks on her pussy. “Fucking hell.” She breathes, wiping the sweat from her forehead. Harry kisses up her body, then licks into her mouth while he takes his shorts and underwear off.

“Sit up.” He tells her and she does so, so he can take her shirt off. He slips his thumb into her mouth and Layna closes her lips around it. “You’re so good. You want my cock?”

She nods as she continues sucking on his thumb. He pulls it from her and gives himself a few pumps before lining up with her. Normally she’d ask a random guy to wear a condom, but she’s on the pill and right now she doesn’t particularly care. She would hope a twenty-nine year old guy would be honest about not being clean. He slowly pushes inside of her, and both of their mouths fall open.

“Jesus Christ.” Layna gasps out as her nails rake down his chest. “Please tell me it’s in all the way.”

“It’s in all the way.” He chuckles.

“Good, I don’t think I could handle much more. Can feel you in my guts.” She half jokes.

“It doesn’t hurt in a bad way, does it?”

“No! No, just give me another second to adjust and then you can move.”

“Layna?”

“Yeah?”

He brings a hand up to cup her jaw, letting his fingers sift through her hair before getting a good grip on her and yanking her head back. “I’m gonna blow your fucking back out.”

**

“Oh my god, he actually said that to you?!” Christine squeals.

“Mhm.” Layna nods.

“And did he?” Michelle asks.

“Yeah, don’t stop there.” Serene says.

“Okay, okay. So, yes, he actually said that to me…”

**

Layna tightened around him after he said that to her, which Harry takes note of. He starts to move, rocking and rolling his hips as he thrusts in and out of her. She wraps her legs around his waist, leaving her feet to rest on the base of his spine. Harry comes down chest to chest with her so he can grope her breasts and kiss on her neck.

“Okay so far?” He asks her.

“Yeah, you feel so good, you’re so big.” She musters out.

He pecks her lips before sitting up and throwing her legs over his shoulders. She grips at his thighs as he fucks into her hard and deep. Her back arches and she reaches for her clit. He drops one of her legs to swat her hand away from herself. She looks up at him with a pout.

“Did I tell you that you could touch yourself?” He says. “I decide when you come, understand?”

“Yes, yeah, I’m sorry.” She says quickly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I won’t do it again, I’ll wait for you to do it. I just felt so good I wanted to feel-“

“Shut up.”

Layna closes her mouth and lays back into her pillows. In her every day life, she would never let someone get away with speaking to her like that. But Harry? He can say and do whatever the fuck he wants to her.

He leans forward and drives his cock in deeper. He grips the top of her headboard and beats into her. He licks his fingers and starts rubbing her clit. Layna isn’t sure what to do with her hands, so she just scratches at his chest. He seems to like it because he’s moaning pretty loudly.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She pants.

“Beg me for it.” He tells her. “Beg me to come.”

“Please, please let me.” She whimpers. “Please, I’m so close Harry, please.”

He smirks down at her. “Go ahead.”

She smiles at him and lets herself go. Moaning out and grinding up against him. When she’s done, he comes back down to her to kiss her and give her slow rolls of his hips.

“Say ‘thank you Harry’.”

“Thank you Harry.” She says weakly.

“God, you’re so fucking good.” He groans. “Can I fuck you from behind?”

“Yes, please.” She nods rapidly. “That’s my favorite.”

He nods and pulls out so she can get into position for him. He slides back in and reaches up to grip the top of the headboard with one hand, and the back of her neck with the other. And then he’s off. He pounds into her. Layna presses her hands flat to the headboard to brace herself and to stop her head from knocking into it. She moves her hips in circles and fucks herself back on his cock to meet his thrusts.

“Fuck, Layna.” Harry moans.

“Shit, please don’t stop, you’re hitting it.” She grunts. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.” She has a few stray tears rolling down her cheeks as she whimpers and whines.

“Are you gonna come for me again?”

“Only if you’ll let me, but I don’t know how long I can hold it.”

The bed is shaking and the headboard is knocking against the wall from the force of Harry’s thrusts. Harry’s hand slides from the back of Layna’s neck to the front, and he yanks her up and back until her back is pressed to his chest. He moves his hips in circles along with hers. One arm wraps around her chest, and the other around her waist so he can rub her clit. She slides his hand from her chest back to her throat and presses down on it.

“You’re so fucking perfect, Jesus.” He growls into her ear. “You like being choked?”

She nods and whines as she starts to feel herself getting close again. He stopped right before she could get there a moment ago. She hopes he won’t stop this time. Her head rolls back to his shoulder and her eyes flutter closed. His cock feels so good, it’s sliding in and out of her perfectly. And his fingers on her clit are like magic.

“I want you to come.” He tells her, nipping at her earlobe. “Give it to me, now.”

Layna doesn’t need much more encouragement than that before she loses it. He continues rubbing her clit, making it last as long as possible. When he feels her start to loosen around him, he pushes her to lay on her stomach. He pulls out of her and comes all over her ass and back, not holding back his moans and grunts and groans. When he finishes, he lays on his back next to her to catch his breath. She turns her head to look at him, and he looks at her.

“That was all okay?” He asks softly.

“I liked it, I really liked it.” She breathes. “I like being good. I…I like being called a…a good girl. You’ve almost said it a couple of times, but you just say I’m good. You can call me a good girl.”

“Yeah?” He turns onto his side, smiling at her. “Do you prefer praise or degradation?”

“A mix of both. I really liked the way you spoke to me. It was hot.”

He smirks before leaning in to kiss her forehead. “You’re a good girl Layna.” And with that, he gets off the bed and grabs his clothes.

He doesn’t put them on though. Layna can barely move, but she knows she should get up to go to the bathroom and rinse herself off. Only, when she props herself up on her elbows, she hears the distinct sound of water running. Is he taking a fucking shower? He’s in and out in five minutes. She listens closely and hears him go into her fridge, and then he leaves.

**

“So, he made good on blowing your back out, showered, and then rifled through your fridge before leaving your apartment?” Michelle asks.

“Yup.”

“What did he even take?” Serene asks.

“My last black cherry Bubbly!”

“He took a seltzer water from your fridge and dipped?!” Christine can’t help but laugh. “Why did he think he had the right to just do what he wanted in your apartment.”

“I don’t know…but as weird as it was, it kind of turned me on.” Layna giggles.

“So, have you seen him since last week?” Serene asks.

“At the gym during normal work hours, but we haven’t hooked up again. We’ve just been sort of…sexting.”

“Honey, this isn’t sexting, it’s hieroglyphics.” Christine says, and everyone laughs.

“I know, it’s totally not sexy to use eggplants and finger emojis, but at night it works for me. He doesn’t usually text me this early in the day. He must want to get together, right?”

“This is a cryptic ass message, so who knows.” Serene says.

The girls finish their brunch and part ways. Serene is going in the same direction as Layna, so they walk together.

“I can feel your judgement, it’s radiating off you.” Layna says to her friend.

“I’m all for having a fuck buddy, but some guy that works at your gym? He sounds like a loser.”

“It doesn’t matter if he’s a loser or not, he’s fucked me better than anyone I’ve ever slept with, and it’s only been two times. We’re on the same page about not wanting anything serious. This could work for a bit.”

“And what happens when you inevitably catch feelings? Are you going to have a guy that lives in hoodies and basketball shorts to one of your showings?”

“I’m not going to catch feelings for him. I barely know anything about him, and I intend to keep it that way. We don’t speak about anything other than working out or sex. It’s perfect.”

**

Hey, u up?

It’s 2:30 in the morning on Thursday, now technically Friday. The buzz of Layna’s phone wakes her up. She must have forgotten to put it on do not disturb before she went to bed. She doesn’t have to be at the gallery until 1PM tomorrow, so it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to get her shit rocked at this hour.

Just barely…did you want to come over?

Yeah, I want to 👅🍑

Jesus fucking Christ.

I’ll unlock my door so you can just come in. How long will you be?

10 min

Okay, see you soon!

👍🏻

Layna gets up to use the bathroom and freshen up quickly. She spritzes some perfume into her hair and dabs some on her wrists. The last time Harry came over, he told her she should just wait for him naked, so that’s what she’s going to do. She gets the lighting just right, then lays on her tummy with her back arched and her head resting on her hands. She hears her down open and close and butterflies soar through her stomach.

“Layna?!”

“In the bedroom!”

He comes in wearing a black hoodie and black joggers. He smiles when he notices that she’s completely naked.

“You’re in the perfect position for what I want to do to you.” He tells her as he takes his hoodie off, revealing a white undershirt.

“And what exactly might that be?” She bats her eyelashes at him sweetly.

“Couldn’t you tell from my text? I’m gonna spend some time on your ass tonight.”

“Oh, right.”

“You good with that?”

“I’m good with whatever you want to do. You know that already.”

“I don’t want to do anything that you’re not into.” He sits on the edge of the bed and feather lightly strokes her back with the tips of his fingers.

“I’m into it. I would say if I wasn’t.”

“Would you?”

“Yes.”

“Great, then stay just like that.”

“Wait. Could you kiss me first?”

He smiles and bends down to pecks her lips, lingering for a moment to let her deepen it. He kicks his sneakers off and gets himself behind her on the bed.

“How do you feel about spanking?” He asks as he kneads her asscheeks with his large hands. “I’d love to see my handprint on you.”

“Do it.” She tells him, looking back at him over her shoulder. “Do it hard.”

Harry lifts his hand and brings it down hard to her skin, causing her to jolt forward. He pulls her hips back so she’s up on her knees, and he spreads her apart. He spits down onto her other hole, and watches as it drips down over her slit. He starts by just rubbing his thumb around the rim, getting her used to him being there. He repositions so his body is more so next to hers with his top half leaning over her ass. He starts tonguing at her hole while he works his middle finger into her pussy.

There aren’t a lot of guys that Layna has let lick her like this. Only a few. And it never felt this good. Harry’s heart is in it. The way he grunts and moans and laughs lowly against her as she squeaks and bucks and grinds backward against him is so wonderful. It’s sending her into a state of pure bliss.

He slips a second finger inside of her, and starts thrusting them in a little faster and deeper. Layna’s mouth hangs open as she grips at the blankets and just enjoys the way everything feels. He pulls his fingers from her, licks up from her pussy to her other hole over and over before fucking her with his tongue.

“Oh, shit.” She groans. “Harry, I’m getting close.”

Harry’s large hands keep her cheeks spread so he continue doing as he pleases to her. The noises he’s making are encouraging her to come, so she does. Her eyes roll back and she smiles at the feeling. Harry turns her over with no warning, and crawls up her body, licking into her mouth. She toes his joggers off, getting them down just enough to get his cock out. Neither of them bothers with taking his shirt off, it doesn’t matter. He paints his cock along her wet slit before pushing inside of her.

Her heels rest at the base of his spine as he fucks into her with ease. His lips sponge along her neck and chest. He pulls out of her abruptly and sits up. Layna whines and juts her bottom lip out in a pout.

“Relax.” He takes his shirt off and rids himself of the rest of his clothes. “Come here, ride it.” He says as he sits back on his hands with his legs spread. Layna scrambles to get up, but she’s soon straddling him and sinking down on his cock. She feels like she can barely breathe. “There we go, just relax baby.” His hands smooth over her breasts, around her back, and down to her hips.

“You’re s-so big.” She presses her forehead to his.

“I know I am.” He coos. “Probably won’t ever be able to get it down your throat.”

“That’s not true.” She pouts as she starts to move up and down slowly.

“No? So if I stuffed my fingers down your throat you wouldn’t choke right away?”

“I guess…I guess you’ll have to do just that and we’ll see.”

Harry grins as Layna opens her mouth. He sticks two fingers into her mouth and down her throat until she’s choking and gagging and spitting up. He wipes the spit from her chin and brings his fingers down to her clit to rub while she moves herself up and down on his cock.

“You’re such a good girl, Layna.”

“Do you like it better when I’m messy?”

“Yeah.” He smirks. “Sex is more fun when it’s messy, don’t you think?”

She nods and slots her mouth over his. She wraps her arms around him, letting her fingers tangle in his curls. She starts bouncing up and down on him while his fingers continue to pay attention to her clit. He rubs it hard and fast.

“God, that feels so good.” She slams down on him harder, making him moan out loudly.

“Fuck, Layna.”

“Please come, I wanna come with you, please, Harry, please, please, please.” She’s rambling and and totally lost in her lust. But he loves hearing her beg.

The bed creaks from the force of their bouncing, and it all suddenly stills as they come in unison. Layna goes slack against Harry, kissing on his neck and shoulder lazily as she basks in the warmth of his come filling her up.

Layna lifts herself off of him, and goes to use the bathroom. When she comes back to her bedroom, Harry is laying on his stomach, bare ass out for all to see, and he’s snoring. She was only gone for five minutes, how the hell is he already snoring? She’s too tired to care at this point. So, she grabs a bed shirt to throw on and gets back into bed. She wasn’t expecting him to stay since he didn’t the last time, but it’s not a big deal. She turns over to face away from him to use her phone. Just as her eyes start to droop from reading a Wikipedia article on the invention of the aglet, she feels a strong arm wrap around her stomach. Harry pulls her to his chest and shoves his leg between hers.

**

Later that morning, at a more reasonable hour, Layna’s alarm goes off. She blindly reaches for it on her bedside table, almost knocking it over, but she’s able to turn it off. She knuckles at her eyes and sits up. The space next to her is empty and cold. How long ago did he leave? She grabs her phone and her eyebrows raise when she reads a message from Harry at around 5AM.

Had 2 head out. I used ur shower, and helped myself 2 a cliff bar. Left u some $$ on ur dresser for a plan b. Lmk when u get ur 🩸

She looks to her right and sees three, twenty-dollar-bills on her bureau. She blinks a few times and then gets out of bed to start her day.

**

“He used your shower again?” Christine laughs over a late lunch with Layna later that day.

“Yeah! I don’t really care since water is included in my rent, but still! There’s a shower at the gym, use that if you can’t wait until you get home.”

“At least he told you what he took from your kitchen this time.”

“True.”

“Do you feel like a hooker since he left you cash?”

“Nah, not really.”

“Why would he even leave you money for a Plan B if you’re on the pill?”

“I never told him I was on the pill, and the last two times we’ve fucked he hasn’t worn a condom. The first time he pulled out, but last night he came inside me.”

“Not to pull a Serene, but could you not make him use a condom?”

“I don’t know. I wanted to feel him, and I just get the vibe that he’s the type of guy who would say if he was clean or not. And he’s obviously covering his tracks. So, I’m gonna pocket the money and I’ll tell him when I get my period like he asked. Funny enough, I started my placebo week two days ago, so I should be getting my period either today or tomorrow.”

“I kind of like a man that carries cash. It’s like an emergency fund, you know? Maybe he’s keeping it on him for an unexpected cover charge, or needs to leave a generous tip.”

“Right? Nothing wrong with being proactive.”

“I’m glad you’re having fun with him. I feel like you never just hook up anymore. Not since Mark, anyways.”

“I was feeling like I was too old to just be hooking up with random guys. And when I was with Mark I liked having the consistency. I’m not sleeping with anyone else, so I don’t see the harm of having a consistent fuck buddy.”

“I’m never one to rain on someone’s parade, but do you at least know if he’s sleeping with anyone else? It might be good to ask so you’ll know if you should really be using condoms or not.”

“No, that’s a good point. I don’t want to catch anything.”

“I’m always up front with the guys I sleep with that they’re not the only one.”

“You don’t always use condoms though.”

“No, but nine times out of ten I do.” Christine shrugs. “I also have no way of getting pregnant, so I don’t care as much.”

“But you could still catch something.”

“I’m not catching a baby, so I really don’t give a fuck.”

Layna bursts out laughing at that. She can always count on Christine for zero sexual judgement.

**

Hey, you wanted me to let you know when I got my period…so this is me letting you know I got my period

It was a text she hasn’t had to send to someone since college, but she wanted go give him the courtesy since he left her $60 in cash.

How many days u 🩸4?

What in the actually fuck?!

Who are you, my gynecologist?

LMAO

No

I just wanted to no when I can 👅🍑💦👉🏻👌🏼 u again

Certainly it must take more effort to type like that because of autocorrect, right??

I’ll let you know

U better

And if I don’t?

U wouldn’t b a very good girl if u don’t

Don’t u want 2 b good 4 me?

It’s usually four days, I’ll text you next week

Good girl

**

Layna’s never been the jealous type, and she’s not sure if she’s just horny and hormonal, but she doesn’t like the woman that Harry is assisting at the gym. She’s been all over him since the second she got there, and Harry didn’t seem to mind. Layna only uses the treadmill when she has her period. She doesn’t like doing anything too strenuous with weights or machines because you just never know if your tampon is going to leak or if your pad is going to move and then all of a sudden your leggings are blood stained.

She was trying to be discrete with her glances, but the look of disgust on her face wasn’t discrete. And after a while it was clear Harry had other things to do, but the woman wouldn’t leave him alone! Layna has noticed that in the evening hours, Harry mostly wipes down machines and collects towels. He does more of the one on one training in the early morning and afternoon. So why wasn’t this woman taking the hint?

When she’s had enough, Layna hops off the treadmill and goes to refill her water bottle. This is also the area where people can put towels in hampers. Harry comes up next to her to tie up one of the hampers to bring to the laundry room.

“You’re not subtle, you know.” He says without looking at her. “You have major resting bitch face.” Now he looks her, the side eye makes Layna laugh.

“I don’t usually.” She takes a sip of water, then twists the cap back on the top.

“So what’s different about today?”

“Would it be anti-feminist to blame it on PMS?” Normally a rhetorical question like that would make someone laugh, but it seems to go right over Harry’s head. “Anyways, it was just sort of distracting to see that girl follow you around like a lost puppy. I was trying to focus on my walk.”

“You should make a better playlist.” He turns to face her and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m not sleeping with her, if that’s what you were wondering.”

“It’s really none of my business.” She assures him. “You’re a good looking guy, I’m sure you have a lot of girls on rotation.”

“I’ve had a lot less since I started up with you.” He blushes ever so slightly, but his tone is turning her on so she doesn’t notice the rouge on his cheeks. “I don’t usually sleep with girls from the gym.”

“Ah, separation of church and state.”

“Sure?” He runs a hand through his hair. Jesus Christ, he’s dumb. But it’s so hot.

“I think we should probably use condoms if you’re seeing multiple people, just to be safe.”

“Are you not?”

“Am I not, what?”

“Sleeping with other people.”

“Oh! Um, not really. Like, I honestly haven’t had time. Long story, I won’t bore you.”

He narrows his eyes at her for a moment. “What brand of condoms do you like?”

“Don’t worry about that. I’m allergic to latex so I have my own on hand.”

“I don’t like lambskin.”

“It’s not lambskin, they’re still rubbers, but the latex ingredient that I’m allergic to isn’t in it.”

“Are they big enough?”

“The smallest condom can stretch to fit around someone’s foot, you jackass.”

“That’s not very nice.” He smirks, and takes a step closer to her. “Am I gonna have to bend you over the next time I see you?”

“Maybe.” She blushes.

“You’re still on your period?”

“Yes.”

“Damn.” He sucks his teeth as he looks her up and down, very obviously objectifying her. “That’s too bad.”

“Yeah.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t forget to put you in your place so you don’t talk to me like that again.” He smirks, grabs the hamper full of towels, and disappears into the back of the gym.

“Cold shower.” She says to herself. “I need to take a very cold shower.”

**

Layna, Serene, Michelle, and Christine are all out for drinks on Friday night. It’s 9PM, and they’re all laughing and giggling and discussing what their plans for the rest of the night are.

“I have a party to go to for a client.” Christine says. “They loved my service so much that they want to introduce me to their friends so I can do some schmoozing.”

“I have a date with HBO and my couch.” Serene says.

“Ooh, a threesome. Good for you.” Christine jokes, making everyone laugh.

“I have a FaceTime date with Andrew.” Michelle smiles. “I thought him being in London would suck, but it’s actually been really romantic making time for each other like this.”

“That’s sweet.” Layna smiles.

“What about you?” Serene asks. “We could make my date a foursome.” She smirks.

“Actually, um…Harry is coming over around eleven.” Layna tells them.

“You’re still fucking that guy? He doesn’t even know what feminism is!” Serene says, annoyed.

“I made a joke and he didn’t think it was funny, it doesn’t mean he’s an idiot. He’s just not as educated as the rest of us, and there’s nothing with that.”

“Besides, he’s knowledgeable about what matters most.” Christine grins. “He’s made Layna squirt.”

“Shhh!” Layna hushes her friend. “I’m an open book, but I don’t want to talk about the fluids that have left my body.”

“I still can’t believe he made that happen the first time you hooked up.” Michelle says. “Vaginally.”

“I get dizzy every time I think about it.” Layna says. “He’s wild. And his dick is huge. I’ve never fucked a guy with such a big dick before.”

“I recall you mentioning Mark’s was decent.” Serene says.

“Mark had girth and that matters a lot more to me, but Harry has girth and length. And he’s been able to get my g-spot every time. Mark always had to rub my clit to get me to come.”

“Good for you.” Michelle smiles. “You deserve to have crazy hot sex with a himbo.”

All the girls laugh. They have another drink each before parting ways.

Layna takes a shower when she gets back, wanting to be as fresh as possible for her handsome himbo. She moisturizes, blows out her hair, and puts on a set of lace panties and bra. She feels giddy knowing she’s at the top of Harry’s rotation. She wonders what exactly he meant when he told her he was sleeping with less women since he met her. It’s none of her business, but she can’t help but be curious.

She grabs some condoms from the drawer in her bedside table and sets them down. Her phone buzzes at 11:05.

Here

She makes her way to her front door and opens it to let him in.

“Hey.” He gives the ‘sup’ nod but stops short when he looks at her. “Holy shit.”

“I hope you like red lace.” She smiles sheepishly. “I haven’t worn this for a while, but I th-oh!”

Harry pushed her up against the nearest wall after kicking the door closed. His tongue is down her throat, and his hands are sliding around to her ass to the backs of her thighs to hoist her up. She wraps her legs around his waist, and sucks on his tongue while he carries her to the bedroom. Tonight, Harry’s wearing a grey hoodie that has the word ‘DAMN’ on the chest, paired with navy basketball shorts. He gets them both on the bed, with his body still on top of hers. He bites on her bottom lip and sucks on it harshly, making her moan and arch into him. He grinds against her so she can feel how hard he already is. He pulls her hands from his hair and pins her wrists down on either side of her head and looks at her. Her chest is heaving.

“You wore this for me?”

“Well…yeah.” She blinks. “I wanted to look nice.”

“For me.” He confirms.

“Who else would I put this on for?” She asks innocently. “I told you last week I wasn’t sleeping with anyone else.”

He continues to look at her, staring into her soul. “Keep your arms where they are.” He tells her and starts kissing down her neck. His hands grope at her breasts over the lace material. His warm mouth licks and sucks on her nipples, dampening the lace. He drags his tongue down her stomach until he’s kissing over the wet patch covering her center. He strokes her softly with his thumb, teasing her. He brings his mouth back down to her, kissing and licking, teasing her even more. She squirms underneath him, but she knows she needs to stay put like he told her. She knows she’s still in for it since she called him a jackass. Her toes start to curl and she bites her lip and does her best not to whimper and whine.

“You were rude to me last week, when all I did was ask an innocent question.” He says as his thumbs start to massage the inside of her thighs. “I wasn’t trying to be a jackass.”

“It was the way you asked it, I’m sorry.” She sits up on her elbows so she doesn’t have to strain as much to look at him.

“You’re always telling me how big I am, I figured you’ve only fucked guys with chodes or something. I want you to be comfortable, so I just wanted to make sure you had the right condoms.”

“Okay.” She nods. “Are you still going to…to bend me over and put me in my place?”

“Is that what you want?”

“I’m afraid to say yes because then you’ll do the complete opposite to keep teasing me.”

“Alright, listen.” He sits up on his knees, placing his hands on top of her knees. “That kind of stuff is supposed to feel good. I’m not going to bend you over my knee and make you count to ten. I am going to spank you, but only because I want to watch your ass ripple while you’re wearing these panties.”

“You can do whatever you want. I want you to do whatever you want.”

“Mhm, I know. You want me to use you like my own personal plaything.” He pulls his hoodie off and tosses it to the floor. He moves to sit on the edge of the bed. “Come here and lay across my lap.”

Layna crawls over to him and does as he says. He’s sitting far back enough on the bed so that she’s not dangling off of it. She’s actually pretty comfortable. She feels his finger hook into the back of her panties to pull them to the side. His fingers gently rub through her folds. Then he drags his fingers up the back of her ass cheek before groping it. He lifts his hand and brings down on her hard, making her jolt forward.

“Was that too hard?” He asks as he rubs over the pink welt forming.

“No, that was perfect.” She says after she catches her breath. “You can even do it harder.”

“You’re a dream, you know that?” He smiles at her, then pushes her head back down. His hand goes up, and he swats her ass hard.

He switches from spanking her to rubbing her from behind with his fingers until she’s dripping and sticky between her legs. He lifts her up just enough to get out from under her, then gets behind her. Her kisses on her ass, where his various handprints are, in an attempt to soothe her flaming skin. He grips the waist of her panties and drags them down her legs.

“Should’ve taken these off before and stuffed them down your throat while I was spanking you.” He sighs, disappointed with himself. “Next time.” He tosses the garment to the floor and spreads her cheeks. He licks up from her slit to her ass, then crawls up her body, licking up her back and kissing on her shoulders. She likes having his weight on her. “What do you feel like doing tonight since I’m here at a better hour?”

“Hmm…” She taps her chin and he gives her the room to roll onto her back. She smooths her hands over his shoulders before pecking his lips. “You’re a real ass man.”

“Guilty as charged.” He smirks. “You’ve got great tits too, though. Think I really like your whole body.”

“I like yours too.” She giggles.

“Seriously, Layna, how do you want it tonight?”

“I feel like you’re asking because you have something you wanna do.”

“Guilty again.” He sighs. “I want to fuck you, like normal…and then I was wondering if we could go a second round, but that time…could I fuck you in the ass? How do you feel about anal?”

“I like it!” She blurts out. “I really like it. It feels good. I have a, um, a, uh vibrator that you can put inside me and then you’ll feel the vibrations too while you’re fucking me and it’ll feel really good for both of us.”

“So, you’ve been fucked in the ass before?”

“Mhm. Well, not with an actual dick. It was with a butt plug, but it was pretty big and I used it a lot.”

“I’ll loosen you up with my fingers while I fuck you from behind.”

“You’re gonna have to take your shorts off to fuck me.” She grins.

“Not yet I don’t. I just got your panties off, I’m gonna go down on you. You made a fucking mess while you were getting spanked.”

“I thought I was gonna squirt. My pelvis was right on your thigh, it felt so good.”

“Well, we’ll just have to make sure that happens. I didn’t mean to deny you of anything.”

He kisses back down her body and gets right to work. He sucks on her lips, spits on her, then starts fucking her with his tongue while his fingers take care of her clit. She tugs on his hair and her thighs shake when he starts sucking on her clit. He moves his tongue around it in circles and keeps it wet. He presses his hand down on her lower belly and fucks into her with his fingers.

“Oh, shit.” She gasps. “Fuck, fuck! You’re so good at this.” She throws her head back and lets the waves crash over her. She makes a mess between her legs for him, and he gladly cleans it up. They both sit up and rid themselves of the rest of their clothes. Harry sees the condoms on the side table, so he grabs one to roll on. “Hey, wait.” She puts her hand on his wrist.

“What?” He looks at her with a frown. “Do you not feel like it now? It’s okay if you don’t, I’m obviously not going to force you, um, I can le-“

“Harry, calm down.” She chuckles. “I very much still want to fuck. I just…you’ve never let me…I’ve only ever given you a hand job.”

“Oh.” He rips the foil packet open and rolls the rubber onto his throbbing cock.

“You’ve had me choke on your fingers, and you know how good I am with my mouth. Do you not want my mouth on you there?”

“It’s not that.” He knees onto the bed and maneuvers her to lay on her back. “I guess I’d just rather put it in you here.” He pushes inside of her and she swallows him whole. “Nothing feels better than this.” His hand slides up her chest until it’s gripping her throat.

“I – fuck – I just want you to know I’ll do it. I think I’m one of the few women out there that actually likes having someone’s dick in their mouth.” She rubs his forearm up and down while he gently squeezes on the sides of her throat. “I want to reciprocate.” She manages to say.

“I’ll think about it.” He grunts as he thrusts in and out of her.

With him sitting up and choking her, and her laying on her back with her knees bent, it’s not long before Layna’s bed starts to shake, and her headboard starts banging against the wall.

“Can I rub my clit?” She asks faintly.

“Fuck, yeah, you can.” His free hand reaches to grip the top of the headboard. “You’re such a good girl, Jesus Christ. I want you to come. Come whenever you want, you don’t have to hold it.”

“Fuck, Harry, thank you.”

She reaches her hand to rub at her clit, and she melts further into the mattress. Harry gets distracted from watching her touch herself, and ignores the popping sound he hears between them. He starts panting, and so does she. Her back arches off the bed as she comes, and he follows behind, filling her up.

He lets go of her throat and comes down to kiss her. Layna moans into his mouth as she calms down. They both start smiling and giggling.

“Nothing’s even funny.” She continues giggling. “That just felt really fucking good.”

“Yeah, it did.” He smooths some hair away from her forehead.

“Will you fuck my ass now?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” He pecks her lips and pulls out of her.

“Do want, like, a banana or anything to help you bounce back?”

“You have bananas?” He asks excitedly.

“Yeah! They’re in the kitchen in the fruit bowl.”

“Sick.” He gets off the bed, and tosses the condom in her trash. “Do you want one?”

“No, thanks. Maybe…could you get me a glass of water? Throat’s a little sore.”

“Shit, I didn’t do it too hard did I?”

“No! Oh my gosh, no. It was perfect. I can’t wait to see the bruises on my neck in the morning.” She blushes.

“You’re perfect, you know that?”

He pecks her forehead before leaving the room. He comes back shortly with half a banana in his mouth, the other half in one hand and a glass of water in the other. Layna takes the glass and slowly sips on the water. Harry tosses the banana peel in the trash before getting back on the bed.

She looks down and sees that he’s still plenty hard. He notices her looking and then raises an eyebrow at her.

“What, do you not like the way I have it shaved?”

“Huh?” She snaps out of her trance. “No, I just…how did you get hard again so fast?”

“It never went down.” He shrugs. “I have pretty good stamina. I’ll be sensitive, but that’ll be better for you so I won’t have to be in your ass for that long. I know it feels good, but a long round of anal sex can feel not so good the next day.”

“That’s so true.”

“How much prep do you think you need? Will you open right up for me?”

“I’d really like to.” She chews on her bottom lip, and leans over him to grab her bottle of lube out of her drawer. “This should help, though.”

“Ah.” He observes the bottle. “This is good stuff.”

“Yeah, I prefer the water based lube, it’s less messy and feels more natural.”

“Get on your stomach, I’ll start getting you ready. Put your ass up in the air.”

Layna listens to him and gets into position. He squeezes the bottle and lets the lube drip and slide down her hole. He gets his middle finger wet, and rubs it around her rim. Layna sighs contently into her pillow. Harry works his finger into her slowly.

“Harry, my vibrator is in that same drawer. Could you grab it and put it inside my pussy?” She looks back at him over her shoulder. “It’ll help me relax a little more for you.”

“Yeah, one sec.”

He pulls his finger from her and leans over the edge of the bed to rummage through her drawer. He find the vibrator. It’s in the shape of a penis, and is simple. Harry gets some lube on it before turning it on and slipping it inside of her. She sighs and relaxes a little more. Harry rips open another condom and rolls it onto his cock.

“I’m gonna start.” He tells her, rubbing her hips and asscheeks.

“Could I…could we switch positions?”

“You wanna ride my dick while it’s in your ass?”

“Yeah, sit on the edge of the bed.” Harry does as she says, intrigued by it. Layna gets off the bed, holding the dildo inside her, and backs up until she’s sitting on Harry’s lap with her back to his chest. “This is more comfortable, and with my legs on the outside of yours, I’m spread a little more.”

“I didn’t think most women knew how to take it up the ass without doing doggy.” He grips himself and paints his cock along her hole. Layna reaches behind and helps him slowly feed it into her.

“I guess I’m not most women.” She grunts. “Ew, I didn’t mean that in like a ‘I’m not like other girls’ way.”

“I knew how you meant it.” He holds his breath until his cock is all the way inside of her. He keeps his hands on her hips, but they both just sit for a moment, the sound of the vibrator inside Layna filling the room.

“I feel so full.” She sighs and hooks an arm behind Harry’s head. “You can move.”

“You sure?”

“Mhm. Give it to me.”

Harry starts to move Layna for her, controlling the pace. She’s not complaining. They get a good rhythm going after Harry squirts some extra lube on her ass. He moves her legs so it’s like she’s straddling him. It gives her some leverage to start moving herself while Harry thrusts up inside of her and rubs her clit.

He watches as sweat falls down her spine. He leans forward and kisses on the back of her neck and shoulders. It’s a slow grind, a good groove. Layna hasn’t felt this good in a long time. She’s never told any of her friends, not even Christine, that she likes anal sex this much. It’s so taboo and naughty and she can take it so well. She’s not sure what it is exactly, but she just likes feeling full. Not to mention, she loves the way a man reacts to it. Harry is breathing heavily and moaning and pressing his sweaty chest to her back. His hands are groping her breasts, she’s got a decent grip on his hair, and it’s all so deliciously overwhelming.

“Layna, I’m getting close.” He warns her.

“I’m almost there.” She pants.

His fingers go back to her clit and he starts rubbing at rapid fire. Layna starts moaning loudly and spilling out expletives. Harry places one of his hands behind him for leverage. His own back is arching, he can feel his orgasm at the base of his spine. He can’t hold it.

“Fuck!” He cries out, then bites down hard on Layna’s left shoulder.

That pushes Layna over the edge, and she makes a mess all over Harry’s thighs. He holds her to him as they both try to even their breathing. Layna lifts herself up a little, and Harry makes a panicked noise. She hasn’t heard that noise come from him before.

“I’m just taking the vibrator out, don’t worry.” She slips the toy out of her and tosses it on the bed, then leans back into Harry. She turns slightly to look at him. “Are you alright?” She asks gently.

“Yeah, that was just really amazing.” His arms are tight around her tummy. “I need a minute, sorry.”

“It’s okay, I’m comfortable.” She pecks his lips, and that turns into a very searing, deep kiss from Harry.

They stay like that for around ten minutes, and then Harry lifts Layna off of him. She tells him she’s gonna go use the bathroom. He notices that the this condom popped as well. They must be expired. He grabs one of the wrappers and shoves it into one of his sneakers so he’ll know what brand to pick up the next time he’s at the drug store.

When Layna’s done, Harry goes to use her bathroom. As he comes back to her, he smirks. She’s wearing an oversized T-shirt, but that’s it. So he can see everything while she’s changing her sheets. She jumps when she sees him standing in the doorway.

“The sheets were soaked.” She explains.

“I know.” He grabs his boxers and pulls them back on. “Do you always have that much to give when you squirt?”

“Sometimes it’s only a little, and then other times it’s a lot.” She shrugs as she finishes making up the bed. Harry crawls into the side he slept on the last time, and Layna slips in beside him. “Well, goodnight.”

“Night.” He reaches over her to turn her lamp off, then pulls her in close so he can spoon her.

She’s not complaining.

**

[dbnightingale24]

Pavlov’s Dog

A Ransom Love Story

~~

Part 1

~~

I don’t know why I’m like this, but here you all go. Another love story about everyone’s favorite asshole. I also got this done a lot faster than I thought I would, so I’m hoping to get part 2 out too. I’m also work on a Lloyd story though, so just be patient with me (I truly don’t know why I’m like this). 

Thank you @fuckingbye​ for my moodboard! It’s amazing, just like you!

Lets dive in, shall we?

Word Count: 38,754 words (look at me making a story that’s under 40,000+ words)

Warnings: SMUT (Minors DNI, 18+ ONLY) This whole damn story is a warning, honestly. Ransom (a walking warning), Drinking, Cheating, Talks of drug use, abuse, FLUFF, VERY Public Sex, Daddy kink, Family drama/issues, Angst, Crying, Depression, Lying, Heartbreak...I believe that’s it.

Song(s) That Inspired This Chapter: C’mon, Give It To Me

I do not give consent/permission for my stories/works to be posted elsewhere. I do not condone this type of behavior, this is for entertainment purposes only.

~~

“Ransom stop! We have to stop,” you moan as he continues to fuck you with two fingers.

“What for? I’m taking it easy on you, aren’t I?” he smirks against your neck before biting down on it.

“I’m married! I can’t...oh God, Ransom! I can’t...-”

“You didn’t seem to mind two nights ago when I fucked you until you couldn’t use your own legs, or the night before that when I fucked you on my balcony for everyone at the party to see,” he chuckles.

“Ransom!” you whimper, scratching at the kitchen fridge while your legs go weak at the memory.

“We don’t have to stop at all, baby. You just need to learn how to shut the fuck up,” he chuckles before nipping on your earlobe, “we haven’t been caught yet, so why stop?”

As always, you do what he says, because you can’t stop. You haven’t been able to stop since you two started this whole fucked up situation a year ago.

Ransom was someone you never thought you’d be in this position with. Technically, you’d known him forever because rich families tend to travel in the same circles, but you’d never actually spoken to or spent any time with him. Well, except for that one time, which really didn’t seem to stick for him.

When you were a kid, you clung to your parents out of anxiety and worry. Then, when you became a teenager, you stayed away because he and his friends had a reputation, as did his father, for being a womanizer. Over time, Ransom became the same way and you can only guess that after hearing some of the stories about his family, it’s really not something he needed to learn, it was basically a genetic code for the men in that family.

Like the whole ‘Pavlov’s Dog’ theory.

Ransom didn’t need to learn how to be a scum bag, he just was one. Whenever he saw a gorgeous woman, he simply went after her. Much like his father, his uncle, and his grandfather (when he was younger).

It was a family trait.

Yes, Harlan had tried to fix all the damage he’d caused before he died, but it was useless. Richard and Walt were set in their ways and they didn’t do much to hide it. Most of the men in the “rich family” group didn’t. No, your father didn’t cheat on your mother (much), but he put his hands on her; especially when he was drunk. So, he was still a piece of shit as far you were concerned.

However, none of this information ever made you look down on Ransom and his friends. You didn’t know them and you weren’t going to judge them because of your own feelings. You just stayed away. You didn’t do drugs, you didn’t party much, and you didn’t drink too much. Sure, you’ve been drunk a time or two, but not every damn weekend.

Even with the “girlfriends” that they had, you tried to be as pleasant as possible when you would cross their paths. You just wanted to stay out of sight and out of mind, but you never wanted to be rude about it. You had your small group of friends and a stable-ish relationship with your parents, so you were happy. You kept to yourself and minded your own business. You never spent more time doing more than you needed to with the people your parents associated with. The parents liked you because you were a good kid. You were polite, kind, did well in school, never seemed to ask your parents for anything, hard working, and you stayed out of trouble.

Your parents took pride in having the “perfect daughter”.

You think that’s what attracted your husband to you. His parents had always liked you, and your mother would constantly tell you how his mother wished he’d settle down with a girl like you.

“Honestly, I’m not surprised he hasn’t asked you on a date with how you dress,” your Mother scoffed. “You have a gorgeous body and you never show it off. You don’t attract anyone’s attention with how you dress.”

“I don’t want to attract anyone’s attention,” you sighed, annoyed that she’s made you feel pathetic and like a disappointment for the millionth time in your life. “I like my life as it is.”

“Alone?”

“Mother.”

“Anyway, Jack’s mother is constantly telling me how she wishes he’d find someone like you instead of all of the other little tramps he hangs out with-”

“Mom!”

“What? They are little whores,” she shrugs, sipping on her Blood Mary. “Half of them have already slept with half the husbands, then they go and fuck the sons. As long as they keep their getting money, it doesn’t matter to them. Anyway, he hangs out with that Ransom boy and that boy is never up to any good-”

“You don’t know that.”

“When did you become so damn naive?”

“I’m not naive, I’m just not going to pass judgement on people I don’t know. What right do I have? Everyone is capable of good and bad.”

“Not everyone.”

“Yes, everyone.”

“Give an example.”

“Dad loves me, gives money to good charities and schools, but still beats you and stays out too late with his friends. You’re a great and loyal friend, a great mom, but you still drink to try and forget that dad’s a piece of shit and you go driving while you’re fucked up. Everyone is capable of good and bad. Was that a good enough examples or should I keep going?” you questioned, cocking an eyebrow.

“Anyway,” your Mother scowled, “he’s around Ransom and all of his friends, so it makes sense that he never brings anyone favorable home.”

“Well, maybe his mom will get what she wants and he’ll find someone “decent” enough to settle down with.”

“Or, you can change up your look, and he’ll settle down with you,” your Mother smiled hopefully and you just rolled your eyes.

Honestly, it didn’t surprise you that your Mother was so desperate for you to be with Jack. Socially and financially, it was the perfect match. Your Father is one of the best doctors in the country, and his Father was a pretty successful Doctor. You made a name for yourself in your life of work, and Jack was successful in his own right. He’s handsome and you’re gorgeous.

It just worked.

However, a few weeks later, you found out the Jack’s parents weren’t the only ones who were keeping an eye on you.

“Have you noticed that Ransom Drysdale can never seem to take his eyes off of you?” your best friend, Daisy, questioned with a laugh.

“Huh? What do you mean?” you questioned, trying to get lost in your third Screwdriver.

If there’s one person in your life you trust above all others, and confide in more than anyone else, it’s Daisy. You and her have been thick as thieves since 5th grade, and there’s no one else you’d rather have by your side when shit gets rough. Yeah, she’s a party girl, but she’s loyal, hard working, and she enjoys quiet time just as much as you do. Her parents are just as bad as yours and that’s how you two bonded. It’s also the reason you stick up for all the party girls your Mother hates.

All of you were dealt the same hand, there’s no reason to hate anyone. The parents never felt the need to really spend time with their kids, cause that’s what the Nanny’s for, right? All the parents just passed their kids off to someone else when they could, then paraded them around during their birthdays or when they achieved something they deemed amazing. Whether it was making the honor roll, making the Varsity football team, or getting accepted into a top school, the parents would throw extravagant parties, while their kids would drink themselves into oblivion, get high out of their minds, or fuck until they were tired of it.

Everyone dealt with their shit in their own way, and Daisy made sure you didn’t give anyone shit for it, because you were all just trying to get by in a world where you all felt like no one actually gave a fuck about you. You were all just trophies for your parents to shine up and pay attention to every once in a while.

Anyway, your parents were throwing their annual Summer party and, somehow, you got roped into it.

“He wants to fuck you,” she laughed.

“What? No he doesn’t! He’s never even spoken to me!”

“News for ya babe: you don’t have to talk to someone to wanna fuck ‘em.”

“I’m not his type, stop it. You’ve seen the girls he brings to parties and charity functions. I do not fit into the category, at all,” you scoffed before taking another sip of your drink, looking over and seeing his eyes on you.

Along with Jack’s.

“I told you what my mom said; they’re probably just talking about me,” you shrugged.

“His eyes are on you even when he isn’t around Jack.”

“Dais-”

“I know you’re hard headed and don’t like to listen to anyone, but Drysdale has a thing for you and I feel like he always has, or...at least, wants to fuck you.”

“Yeah right,” you muttered before you finished off your drink.

You should’ve listened to her. God, you wish you would’ve listened.

It’s not like you had any reason to believe her though, because why would you? He’d never spoken to you, he’d never made it obvious that he’d taken any interest in you, and he never approached you. Hell, your parents had invited him and his parents to your birthday parties when you were kids, but he never showed up. You two had gone to the same schools up until college, but even when he came home for holiday break, he never even looked your way.

So why would you think he wanted anything to do with you? Why should you think that he or or Jack ever thinks of you?

Well, Jack proved that his mother’s word got through to him at some point.

“Ya know, you’re always at these things, but you never seem happy to be here,” Jack smiled as he made his way over to you.

“Oh...hi! Uh...yeah, ya know...family obligation and all,” you smiled awkwardly, not really sure why he was making conversation with you.

“Well, why not make a new friend while suffering through another family obligation?”

And that’s how it started.

In the beginning, Jack was sweet. So insanely sweet. He brought you flowers every other day, he was constantly making or taking you to dinner, he was funny, he cut back on partying, and he was always so interested in you. Constantly asking about your day, what made you happy, what irritated you, and what made you laugh.

He seemed like a dream.

It’s not like you’d never had a boyfriend and you were by no means a virgin, but Jack was a dream...at the time. Soon enough there was a proposal and you happily accepted, a home was purchased, there was talk of having kids, a wedding date was set, and your parents were thrilled. You were in love and everything you’d always wanted was finally falling into place.

However, Jack was a wonderful liar, you’ll give him that. He easily played the two faced card, and by the second year of your marriage, you’d finally figured it out.

“Jesus, enough with the bitching!” Jack slurred at 3am, after waking you up by knocking over a lamp in the bedroom.

“You’re never home! You’re always drunk, high, or both, and you’re fucking cheating!”

“Here we go with the fucking cheating allegations-”

“It’s a fucking fact! I smell them on you, there are lipstick stains on your shirt, the calls you step out of the room to answer-”

“Shut up! Your voice is annoying me and I have an early day at work,” he growled before getting into bed and falling asleep almost instantly.

After that, you tried. You tried to save what you thought was the perfect marriage. You made an effort to be more appealing; wearing tighter and more revealing clothes, giving him a blow job whenever he wanted, initiating sex, making his favorite meals, trying to have more date nights, but nothing seemed to work.

“Your husband is a piece of shit,” Daisy scoffed as she settled in bed next to you, at her house.

You and Jack got into another huge argument before he left to go out, and you were in no mood to be there when he got back.

“What did he do now?”

“Hit on me.”

“Daisy-”

“Don’t. Don’t be that woman. Don’t make excuses or try to explain it away. He’s a piece of shit and you know it. Leave his ass.”

“It’s my fault-”

“Stop it, no it isn’t. He’s always been a piece of shit and that didn’t change because the two of you said ‘I do’. He’s a liar and piece of shit. Don’t deny what you know for comfort,” she snapped.

It’s not like Daisy didn’t have a point. You’d figured out Jack was a piece of shit a year and a half into the marriage, but you pretended you could look the other way. If there’s no actual proof, then there’s no way he could be a cheater. You wanted to believe that you were living the life that no one else seemed to be capable of.

You wanted to believe that you got lucky.

Soon enough, trying turned into irritation, irritation turned into frustration, and frustration turned into regret.

“I don’t see the point in leaving him,” your Mother sighed as you two sat down for lunch. “Every marriage has its issues.”

“No offense, but I don’t want to end up like you and half the other women in the county.”

“Y/N, you’re not getting any younger and he’s not putting his hands on you. He’s got a good job, he has more than enough to keep comfortable and happy-”

“I have my own good job and good money on my own.”

“Just have a kid and-”

“You’re not listening me-”

“I am and you need to grow up, Y/N. You’re being a child. Do you know how lucky you are? You could have it so much worse. Suck it up and get over it,” she snapped before she finished her drink, which was her way of letting you know that the conversation was over.

So, you tried. You tried to keep your tears to yourself, you pretended that you didn’t care that he reeked of sex and other women when he came home, you made dinner and left him notes about his plate being in the fridge when he didn’t come home.

However, it didn’t seem to help anything. He was rarely ever home, and w[hen he was, he was either too fucked up or too annoyed to actually pay attention. You barely had sex with him anymore, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, cause it was rare that he ever got you off.

That was an issue before all the lying and cheating.

However, the more you tried, the more your spirit died.

“This isn’t like you, Y/N. This isn’t you at all,” Daisy sighed as as she got in her bed and cuddled up next to you; holding you close as you sobbed into her shoulder.

“My Mother said-”

“Your Mother is a miserable drunk. You know better than to listen to her.”

“She has a point, Dais. They’re a lot of people who have it worse than me.”

“Y/N, you don’t deserve to be treated like this. He’s an asshole who doesn’t know how good he has it, and you deserve to be with someone who does. Someone who will actually appreciate and love you.”

“It’s whatever at this point.”

“When did it get this bad? When did you just allow bullshit like this to happen?”

“I’m tired of fighting.”

“Do you love Jack?”

“Yes.”

“Enough to keep thinking this lowly of yourself?”

“No.”

“Then fucking leave him, Y/N. He’s useless and you’ll be just fine on your own.”

You knew that she was right, so you got the papers made up, and had planned to have a mature talk with him about it.

Planned.

“Can you not go out tonight? We need to talk,” you asked softly as Jack went to follow Ransom and friends out the door.

“Whatever it is can wait,” he scoffed.

“It really can’t.”

“Y/N, don’t start your shit-”

“I want a divorce, Jack. I’m tired of this shit and you clearly don’t care enough to get your shit together. I want a divorce,” you stated plainly, crossing your arms.

“Can you guys wait outside? I’ll be out soon,” he laughed incredulously.

Ransom looked you over before he and his friends made their way outside.

“What is it that you want, hmm?”

“To be in a functioning fucking marriage for one!”

“Jesus, you’re so fucking dramatic, Y/N. You want for nothing, I’ve never put my fucking hands on you-”

“The fact that you think that’s some big fucking win is a major problem.”

“I still come home to you, don’t I?”

“Do you fucking hear yourself right now?! Why keep doing this? Why not just be free to do whatever you want and leave me the hell alone?”

“Because I love you, Y/N-”

“Bullshit!” you laughed.

“Just because it’s not perfect doesn’t mean it’s not love!”

“Jack, I’m tired of this shit. I have tried everything to make you happy and commit, like you fucking said you would in your wedding vows, and nothing has worked. I’m tired of being the only one who’s willing to make this marriage work. Just sign the damn papers.”

“You’re just not fucking thinking straight. You need a night cool down.”

“Jack-”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” is all he said before storming out and slamming the door shut behind him.

You were determined to stand your ground, so you packed some of your clothes and went to Daisy’s house, and she was more than happy to take you in.

Shithead: Where the hell are you?

Y/N: Sign the papers.

Shithead: You’re being ridiculous.

Y/N: Can you not be difficult for once? Just sign the damn papers.

Shithead: I’m coming to get you, where are you?

Y/N: Can you please just sign the papers?

Shithead: Come home.

This kept up for two weeks; you begging Jack for a divorce and him begging you to come home. You did your best to be strong, with Daisy being your only real support system, but it could only last for so long.

“You need to go home to your husband,” your Mother sighed as soon as you two sat down for lunch.

“Stay out of it.”

“His Mother won’t stop calling me, telling me how miserable he is-”

“Then he should’ve kept his cock in his pants.”

“Y/N!”

“What? He’s a cheater, Mom! All he does is cheat on me and make me feel like I’m being unreasonable-”

“You are!”

“Do you ever take my fucking side?”

“I don’t care for your language!”

“And I don’t care for your attitude!” you snapped.

“You’re having lunch with your Father on Thursday.”

“I work, I can’t just-”

“Just don’t. He wants to have this lunch, he set up his schedule for work so he can meet you in the park, and you’re going.”

“And he couldn’t tell me himself because....?”

“You’re less inclined to give me the same attitude you’ll give him.”

“Fine.”

Needless to say, you two didn’t speak to each other for the remainder of that brunch, and you were already expecting your lunch with your Father to go bad.

It always did.

“So, what’s going on with you and Jack?” your Father asked, handing you a hot dog as you two resumed your stroll through the park.

“You know what’s going on with us.”

“Your Mother says-”

“Don’t. Don’t act like she doesn’t make me feel like shit and make me feel like I’m dumb. Like I’m asking for too much.”

“We just want you to have a good life.”

“You can’t honestly think I’ll have a good life with Jack. Jesus dad, I know you can be a piece of shit, but you have to know that a good life with Jack is not an option!”

“I’m not trying to start an argument, Y/N.”

“You’re also not trying to help anything!”

“It’ll make your Mother’s life a lot easier.”

“And what about my life?”

“Love will come again, Sweet Pea.”

“I can’t fucking believe this,” you scoffed before you finished the rest of your hot dog. “Both of you have got to be the worst parents.”

“Y/N-”

“How does me getting back with him make her life any better anyway?”

“You know the women at the country club talk. They’re bullies and they already give her shit about all the things she and I have been through-”

“So this is to fix all of the shit you’ve done wrong? That’s fucking rich.”

“Overall, she’s been a good mother, Y/N. All the best dance classes, being at every recital, being at every choir concert, every band concert, showing up to every soccer game, getting you the exact things you wanted for your birthdays-”

“Getting blackout drunk on my 16th birthday and making a fool out of herself and embarrassing me in front of my friends.”

“That was my fault and you know it.”

“So, once again, this is to fix all of the shit you’ve done wrong.”

“Y/N-”

“I have to think...all of this shouldn’t have to fall on me.”

“No, it shouldn’t, and I’m sorry, but-”

“Yeah, I know. I gotta get back to work. I’ll talk to you later,” you muttered, throwing out the wrapper that held your hot dog and walking off.

As much as you hated to admit it, your Father did have a point. For all the flaws that your Mother had, and there was a good amount, she always did her best to show up for you. If being trapped in a shitty marriage was going to make her life better, then you’d do it.

Against Daisy’s advice (as well as your own), you found yourself packing your things up and moving back into the prison you were supposed to call home. For the first few weeks, Jack seemed to have his shit together (though you weren’t buying it), and insisted upon having a vow renewal party.

And that’s when all of it started.

It was simple enough at first; people came over and congratulated the both of you, you two put on a show of pure and genuine happiness, had a dance, and Jack even did a toast to the both of you and the new chapter of your marriage.

It started out easy.

Then the drinks started flowing and Jack easily fell back into his old ways. Right in front of you. Your parents could see how upset you were getting and your Father even tried to calm Jack down a few times, taking him in a separate room to talk, but it was no use. Once Jack was fucked up enough, he didn’t care about anything except what he wanted and it didn’t help that his dickhead friends were egging him on.

Well, all of them except for Ransom.

His gaze stayed on you almost the whole time and it was intense. You felt like you couldn’t breathe and your skin was begging for just a touch of him. It also didn’t help that you’d been drinking whiskey for the last 2 hours, as a way of dealing with being publicly humiliated, and it was really starting to kick in. All you wanted was some sort of comfort, and the look Ransom was giving you was letting you know that he was more than willing to give that to you. You wanted to talk to Daisy, but she had refused to come (and you couldn’t even blame her), so you were just shit out of luck.

When you checked the clock and realized that it was only 10pm, you knew the party wasn’t anywhere near over. You grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels and stormed off outside, deciding that time away from everyone is what would be best.

“I never knew you could drink so much,” a dark voice chuckled from behind you, causing you to jump.

“R-Ransom...hi,” you stuttered as you put the bottle down and moved over a bit on the stone ledge you’d been sitting on.

“You look pretty fucking miserable for someone who just renewed her vows.”

“Shouldn’t you be inside with Jack? You’re his best friend or whatever.”

“He’s too fucked up and he’s being annoying,” he shrugged as he took a seat next to you and grabbed the bottle of JD. “We’ve never really spoken before, thought I’d take the time to talk to you now.”

“Well, as much as I appreciate the kind gesture, I’m really in no mood to talk right now.”

“Why’d you take him back?” Ransom pressed on and you let out a heavy sigh.

“It’s complicated.”

“We’ve got time.”

“Ransom, not to be a complete cunt right now, but why do you care? You’re always out with him while he’s getting his dick wet in some other woman’s cunt, so why do you care?”

“It’s not like I encourage him to do it,” he shrugged before he took a drink from the bottle, “he’s a fucking idiot. He talked about making you his for the longest time. Now, he has you, and he treats you like shit.”

“Well, thanks for that bit of information,” you laughed humorlessly.

“So, why did you go back?”

“I told you, it’s complicated.”

“And I told you, we have time.”

“Ransom-”

“You are entirely too beautiful to be crying or married to an asshole like him. The reason must be something good.”

“Leave it alone,” you almost sobbed as you looked back over to him.

Before you could blink, Ransom was cupping your face and kissing you deeply. He was kissing you with more emotion than you’d ever felt. You knew you should’ve stopped him, but it felt so fucking good. Whether or not it was because of the alcohol or because of the lack of affection from Jack, it felt so good to have someone kissing you with so much passion and determination.

“Ransom...” you breathed as you two broke apart, “don’t.”

“You don’t wanna get back at him?”

“Why do you?”

“He took something precious from me, and I wanna return the favor,” he broods as he held your gaze.

You should’ve tapped out right then and there, but you needed some sort of comfort. You needed to hurt Jack the same way he’d hurt you so many times. Before you knew it, you were sneaking Ransom in and bringing him to the bedroom you shared with Jack, not caring if you got caught or not.

You just wanted to feel better.

“Ransom...don’t,” you moaned as he went to rip your dress. “My parents are still here.”

“You really are a good girl,” he chuckled before continuing to kiss down your body.

“I still have...gotta make sure I can go down there...”

“I’ll make sure you look presentable, baby. However,” he started as he hiked up the bottom of your dress, “since I can’t destroy this dress, I’m gonna destroy you.”

“Ransom-”

“Just hang on, baby,” he smirked before dipping down and sucking on your clit and pushing two fingers inside of you achingly slow.

“Jesus! Fuck...Ransom...”

“The way you taste...could stay in-between these legs all day,” he growled before resuming his assault on your clit and picking up his pace, as you gripped his hair and started to grind yourself against his face.

Yes, there was a part of you that wanted to stop, but you’d also never felt so fucking good. Even with your fingers and vibrator, neither could compare to what Ransom was making you feel.

“Ransom...fuck! Oh my God!” you whimpered, trying to stay as quiet as possible.

Yes, you were fine with Jack catching you, but not the entire fucking house.

“Shit! You’re so-fuck!” you cried out as he changed up and started to massage your clit with is thumb while easily fucking into your weeping cunt with his tongue. “Never felt this fucking good!”

You felt him smirk against your clit and you didn’t even care. You felt like you were heaven in heaven and he had every right to feel cocky.

“Not gonna last much...oh...yes...YES!” you cried out, as you came hard, your entire body tingling in delight.

“Never thought you’d be such a messy little thing,” Ransom chuckled after he cleaned up between your legs. “Can’t wait to see how much of a mess you make on my cock.”

“Ransom-”

“You’ve already opened up your legs for me, sweetheart. Might as well experience the whole ride,” he smirked before kissing up your dress.

In the moment, it’s not that you felt guilty, you were just afraid of not being able to keep quiet.

“You’re such a pretty little thing,” he cooed against the shell of your ear before he bit it.

“Shit!” you whimpered as you unbuttoned his pants and he pulled them down.

“Gonna fuck you so good. The way you should always be fucked,” he promised before thrusting himself inside of you.

“Fuck!”

“God, this pussy is better than I ever imagined,” he groaned, starting to pump into you hard and fast.

“So fucking full! Holy shit!” you cried out as you gripped his shoulders, trying to hold on for the ride.

“Never been stretched this good?”

“N-no, daddy!”

Whoops.

“Daddy?” he smirked, “You ever call him that?”

“He...he doesn’t deserve it,” you moaned, grinding your hips against his.

“Shit, Y/N!”

“So fucking close!”

“You need to cum, baby?”

“Please!” you pleaded pathetically.

“Such a good little girl,” he grunted with a smirk, “Asking permission...cum for daddy, baby,” he encouraged before he dipped down and kissed you passionately with just a hint of desperation.

Maybe it was because you were so damn drunk, or maybe it was because he made you feel better than you ever had, but you squirted hard. Something you’d never done before.

“You really are the messiest little thing, aren’t you?” he laughed as he pulled out, and you groaned in protest. “Oh, we’re not done, Sweet Thing. Get on your hands and knees for me.”

“Ransom-”

“Don’t worry, daddy isn’t gonna fuck that hole. At least not tonight. Just wanna put these these legs out of use.”

“Fuck.”

“Be a good girl, hands and knees,” he demands again before he slapped your inner thigh.

It was in that moment that you decided you’d do anything for Ransom Drysdale.

You were on your hands and knees in a matter of moments, completely forgetting that you’re in trapped in a bullshit marriage, and only focusing on the pleasure that he was giving you.

“Jesus, this fucking ass,” Ransom growled before he slapped it, “Jack is a fucking fool.”

“Daddy please!”

“I know, baby. Gonna make it so much better,” he husked before thrusting himself inside of you, again. “This fucking pussy! I swear to God!”

“Fuck me like I’m your whore,” you begged, “I fucking need it!”

“Haven’t even fucked you full of my seed and you wanna be my whore?”

“So fucking bad!”

“Should I call him in here so he can see how to really fuck you? So he can see that you’re mine now?”

“Do whatever you want,” you whimpered as his grip on you got tighter and he started to fuck you harder, “I just wanna please you!”

“God, you’re gonna make me fuckin' cum, sweet girl!”

“Cum deep in this pussy!”

“Is it mine?”

“Fuck! This pussy is all yours! Cum in it and claim it!”

“Fuck, Y/N!” Ransom husked as he filled you up.

“Jesus!” you screamed as you made a mess all over him and the bed.

Thank God the music was blaring .

You both stayed that way for a moment, both of you taking in what you had just done (you were sure more than him), before he slowly pulled out. You wanted more, but you knew enough damage had been done. Revenge, comfort, desire...you got what you needed and told yourself that was the only time it would happen.

“You comin back down, Sweet Thing’?” Ransom asked as he pulled his pants back on.

“In...in a little bit,” you sighed before you laid back on the bed.

“Gonna wanna fix that fuckin' dress before you do,” he chuckled before kissing the top of your forehead.

And with that, he left.

You told yourself that was the end of it. You had your fill (quite literally) and you wouldn’t do it again. You just wanted a taste of revenge, you didn’t want to live in it. When you went back downstairs, you ignored every glance Ransom threw your way, and ignored the fact that he left with the blonde Jack disappeared with earlier. You had your fair share of fun and you were done.

That’s what you told yourself.

When Jack came home late with lipstick stains on his collar a few nights later, you told yourself it didn’t matter. When you two got into a screaming match about him at least pretending to be decent, you let it go when he stormed out and didn’t return for the night. When the argument of you being on the pill came up and he almost slapped you, you told yourself it was no big deal. Why? Because the playing field was even now (as far as you were concerned). Yeah, Jack cheated almost all the time, but you cheated once. You cheated once and had the most amazing sex ever, so no more needed to be done. No, Jack didn’t know about it, but if he did, it would break him. That was enough for you.

Sure, Ransom came around, looked you over, gave you those eyes, but he never initiated anything. You were more than sure he knew you would never act on anything with him anymore, because that’s not who you were. In fact, you were sure that he knew that he was the only person to ever to get you to do something you absolutely loathed.

Which you is why you kept saying once was enough and you weren’t going to do it again, no matter how much you wanted to.

Still, a woman has needs.

“Ransom,” you moaned as you fucked yourself with your vibrator.

Yes, you were content with not fucking him again, but that didn’t change the fact that he fucked you better than you’d ever been fucked in your life.

“Fuck...fuck, yes! Don’t stop, Ransom!” you whimpered as you curled your toes.

“Miss me?” a deep voice questioned.

You froze almost instantly, leaving the vibrator on as you looked up, “what are you doing here?!”

“Game night,” he chuckled as he walked into the bedroom, closing the door behind him, “Jack lost the bet so he has to host it.”

“You can’t be in here!” you whispered harshly.

“Why not? You clearly need me and it’s been so long. Keep going,” he shrugged as he undid his pants.

“Ransom-”

“Keep going,” he demanded as he started to stroke himself.

You were coming to find that saying ‘no’ to him was going to be something you wouldn’t be good at. You resumed fucking yourself with the vibrator, while he jerked himself off (only turning you on more); his eyes on you intensely.

“You miss daddy, baby?” he groaned as he started stroking himself faster.

You could only bring yourself to nod.

“He’s not fucking you right?”

“He never does.”

“You want me?”

“We can’t,” you moaned as your pussy clenched around your vibrator.

“Why not?”

“Ransom-”

“Suck that vibrator dry, then I’m gonna fuck you senseless.”

“We can’t-”

“Do what I said or you’re gonna be in for a long night.”

You truly wanted to say no, but he’d made you feel so good, and you missed that. You missed feeling desired.

You missed being wanted.

You slowly removed the vibrator from your already soaked cunt with a whimper, before bringing it up to your lips and licking it with the tip of your tongue.

“Never thought you could be such a dirty little thing,” he husked, and you knew he was close.

You kept your eyes on him as started suck on the vibrator, and couldn’t help but smirk when you saw one of his legs almost give out. Yeah, Ransom was a player, but in that moment, he was a puddle for you. It didn’t matter what any other woman made him feel, cause in that moment, he was showing you just how much of an effect you were having on him.

When you took the whole damn thing in your mouth, Ransom came hard on the bed and it just made you that much more desperate. You whined as you cleaned off the last bit of your slick and opened your legs for him.

Before, you could have blamed it all on alcohol and said that you only let Ransom fuck because you were drunk and upset, but in this moment? You were completely sober and you wanted him. You wanted him more than you’d ever wanted anyone.You knew you’d feel bad about it tomorrow, but for now, you just wanted Ransom and he wanted you.

“Let daddy see,” he demanded as he kicked his boxers and pants off.

You took the vibrator out of your mouth as you started to massage your clit with two fingers.

“Such a good girl,” he chuckled before dipping down, moving your fingers out of the way, and licking your clit before he started kissing up your body.

“Ransom, we have to be quiet,” you moaned as he started kissing up your body.

“Take off this fucking shirt.” “Ransom-”

“Take it off, I wanna see all of you.”

“We have to be quiet,” you repeated as you took your shirt off.

“These tits are fuckin' perfect,” he growled as he aligned himself with your entrance.

“Ransom-”

“Yeah yeah, we gotta be quiet,” he grumbled before he thrust himself inside of you, “so don’t scream too loud for daddy.”

“Fuck!”

“Quiet down, Sweet Thing’,” he chuckled before he kissed passionately.

You’d never had an affair before, and you never thought you’d have one. You always imagined that the person you’d end up with would be your knight in shining armor, but now? Jack was always doing whatever the fuck he wanted, so why couldn’t you? Why were you denied your little bit of fun?

“Do you know how many times I’ve dreamt of having you like this again?” Ransom husked as he sat up and gripped your hips, “made me wait two fucking months to make you feel as good as you deserve!”

“All you had to do was ask,” you moaned as you clawed at his clothed chest, arching your back a little.

“Yeah? This pussy is mine whenever I want?”

“I’m yours whenever you want,” you whimpered as you felt your release coming on.

In the back of your mind, you knew you shouldn’t be saying things like that to him, but it was so hard to think straight when he was making you feel so good,

The man fucked like a god.

“What about Jack?”

“What about him?”

“He doesn’t matter anymore?”

“Ransom, do you wanna fuck me or do you wanna talk about my failed ongoing marriage?”

“You’re right, baby. Lets make the most of this,” he laughed before fucking into you relentlessly.

From that point on, you and Ransom fucked whenever you could. He always sought you out, but you never turned him away. You were always eager and desperate for him and he was always eager to give you what you wanted. Whether it was being fucked like a slut, or being fucked in a slow and passionate nature, he always delivered. It started out with him only seeking you out at parties and sneaking into the bedroom when he was at the house for whatever reason, but soon enough, he got your number (probably by getting it off of Jack’s phone), and was demanding you come over in the middle of the night.

That’s when things started getting tricky.

Ransom was infamous for kicking women out of bed, yet he never kicked you out. You’d heard stories of how he’d kicked women out, in nothing but their underwear (if he hadn’t destroyed it), but there were times when you’d wake to his arm wrapped around your waist and him holding you close. Outside of sex, you and Ransom didn’t say two words to each other, but nonetheless, the small gesture tugged at your heart. You couldn’t remember the last time Jack was affectionate with you in public or in private.

However, it also started to get tricky because Jack finally started noticing.

“Where were you?” Jack asked as you toed your shoes off at 7am.

“I went for a drive.”

“All night?”

“There’s not much incentive for me to stay home, is there?”

“Y/N-”

“What happened to your little trinket from last night? I woke up at 2am and you still weren’t home.”

“I actually did have to work late last night,” he sighed and you rolled your eyes.

Ransom had been out with him the night before and told you to come over because Jack was fucked up and had his face buried in some stripper’s cunt, and he wanted to bury his face in yours.

“Whatever.”

“Sweetheart-”

“Don’t fucking ‘sweetheart’ me. I’m taking a shower and then I’m off to work.”

“You know I love you, Y/N.”

That had you laughing so hard you almost fell over.

“Thanks for that, I’m gonna go and start my day now,” you breathed before you made your way upstairs.

After that, you told Ransom that you both needed to stop. You were married and it was wrong, but it’s not like Ransom gave a shit about right or wrong. His new favorite activity was fucking you and he didn’t understand why he needed to stop.

“Why should I have to give you up?” he groaned as you rode him. “He doesn’t even deserve you.”

“He’s starting to notice, daddy. Don’t want...don’t...shit!”

“My gorgeous girl is fuckin’ herself stupid, huh?” he chuckled as he sat up and starting massaging your tits.

“Shit!”

“Cause you’re my pretty girl, right? You’re mine?”

“Ransom...”

“You’re mine?”

“Yes daddy,” you whimpered, wrapping your arms around him and kissing him passionately.

And that was that. Ransom had no intention of letting you go and you didn’t want him to.

“Lets go upstairs,” he whispers as he continues to fuck you with his fingers.

“My parents are here, Ransom. I can’t!”

“Baby, I missed you!”

“You just saw me two nights ago!”

“I wanna see you every fuckin’ night!”

“You know we...Ransom, I’m so fucking close!”

“I know you are, sweet girl...pussy is squeezing my fingers so fuckin’ tight!”

“Oh daddy!”

“Did you miss me, baby? Did you miss me fucking you stupid?”

“You know I...you know I did!”

“I want you in my bed tonight, Sweet Thing.”

“I can’t-”

“Daddy doesn’t like that answer,” he taunts before biting down on the sensitive part of your neck.

“Oh my fuck!”

“Tell daddy what he wants to hear.”

“I can’t-”

“Still not what I wanna hear,” he mumbles as his free hand starts to undo his pants, “you daddy want to fuck you right now? In this kitchen, where anyone can come in and see?”

“Ransom!”

“Tell daddy what he wants to hear,” he demands hotly as he starts to grind his hard cock against your ass .

“Fuck! I’ll...I’ll come by tonight...I can’t stay!”

“We’ll see about that,” he laughs darkly, “now be a good little whore and cum for me. Get it all over the fuckin’ floor!”

“Shit!” you cry out as quietly as you can, squirting hard, happy to be pressed up against the refrigerator so you don’t fall.

“Such a good girl for me, baby,” he praises, kissing your neck as he removes his two fingers. “Clean daddy off so we can go back out there.”

You turn around and take his fingers into your mouth, never breaking eye contact with him, as your tongue licks and massages his fingers, making sure to get all of your essence off of him.

“You sure I can’t sneak you upstairs?”

“Ransom, I have to go out there. It’s my anniversary party,” you chuckle after he removes his fingers and you straighten out your dress.

“He’s the asshole for throwing a party instead of taking you out.”

“He’s expecting sex tonight.”

“Do not fuck him,” Ransom demands as he zips up his pants.

“Ransom-”

“That pussy belongs to me and me only.”

“He’s my husband and it’s our wedding anniversary.”

“What did I say?”

“He’s my husband, Ransom.”

“Then he should fucking act like it.”

“Why do you care so much?”

“Because I like you and he doesn’t deserve you.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“Oh, trust me, I know you,” he chuckles before cupping your face, “don’t fuck him tonight.”

“Ransom-”

“Want me to throw you over my shoulder and remind you why you shouldn’t?”

“Stop it,” you giggle.

Ransom kissed you passionately and pulled you close, “don’t fuck him tonight, baby,” he begs breathlessly as you two break apart.

“You still fuck whoever you want.”

“Yeah, but you’re my favorite.”

“Ransom,” you laugh.

“Just don’t do it, okay?”

“Fine, get back out there.”

“You?”

“I’ll go upstairs the back way and be down in a few minutes.”

“Sounds good,” he smirks before kissing you then making his way back out.

You’re not stupid. You know that Ransom isn’t in love with you, but that doesn’t change the fact that he makes you feel all of the things Jack hasn’t over the last few years. Besides, if you’re doomed to be miserable like every other wife in the area, you may as well get your kicks where you can.

When you reach the bedroom, you clean yourself up and look yourself over in the mirror. When all of this started, you were ashamed of yourself, but now? There’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re playing the same game Jack is.

Except you’re better at it.

When you get back downstairs, you can tell it’s gonna be easy to tell Jack ‘no’ and leaving him to his own devices. He’s high as a kite and drunk off his ass.

“There you are!” he drunkenly exclaims as he stumbles over to you. “Where’d you go?”

“To freshen up,” you mutter, pushing him off of you as you feel your Mother’s gaze on you.

“What do you say we wrap this night up early?”

“And do what?”

“The thing we haven’t done for a while,” he smirks suggestively and you scoff. “What?”

“You’re a little too...tuned up for that right now.”

“Can you not be a bitch on our fucking anniversary?” he scowls.

“You need to sleep it off.”

“Y/N,” he growls as he grips your wrist, tight, “stop fucking denying me.”

“Let me go, now.”

“I want you tonight and you’re gonna-”

“Everything okay over here?” Ransom asks, his leggy blonde date following right behind him. “Hey man!” Jack exclaims, letting go of your wrist and wrapping Ransom in a sloppy hug.

Yeah, it’s definitely time to wrap this fucking party up.

“Why don’t you call it a night?”

“The party is just getting started!” Jack laughs, still holding on to Ransom because standing on his own is now an issue.

“Not for you,” Ransom mumbles as he helps him up the steps.

As you start making your rounds, thanking people for coming and all that fun stuff, you feel your Mother’s stare from across the room and it makes your skin crawl. The only reason you stayed with Jack was to make her happy in the first place. You didn’t need to hear any of her judgemental comments or snide remarks. When everyone is finally gone, you start to pick up some of the plates and glasses, and make your way into the kitchen; your Mother on your heels.

“You could’ve hired-”

“I didn’t want to,” you interrupt harshly.

“You have to stop,” your Mother sighs.

“Stop what? Cleaning? No thanks, I-”

“Stop sleeping with Ransom.”

For just a moment, your breath hitches, but you bounce back quick with, “you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes I do. I’ve been married longer than you have, I’ve been in a miserable marriage longer than you have, I-”

“I’m not you.”

“He’s never going to commit to you and you’re just going to get hurt.”

“Stop.”

“How long has it been going on?”

“Ma-”

“How long?”

“You need to drop it. You don’t know anything-”

“What do you think is gonna happen? What? He’s gonna save you from this marriage? You think he’s gonna commit?”

“What is your problem?!” you snap, finally giving her your full attention. “Did you see what I just had to deal with?! What I’ve been dealing with?! Isn’t it enough that I’m staying in this marriage for the family?! For you?!”

Your mother lets out a heavy sigh before leaning against the counter, “it won’t always be like-”

“Did you miss the bruise on his mother’s face? The concealer did a good job, but not good enough. When does it get better? What? You think that because dad got tired of putting his dick in every other whole so often, that I’ll be fine as long as I wait this out till I’m 50?”

“I know you hate this,” she sobs softly, “and I know you hate us for asking this of you, but it gets better. Quit your job, join the-” “I don’t want to join anything! I don’t want to quit my job-”

“It’ll make all of this easier! It’ll help ease his bruised ego-”

“Do you hear yourself right now?! Do you hear how pathetic it all sounds?!”

“Honey, it’s not a bad life-”

“I need to keep some part of me that is me. I’m not you. I can’t just wrap myself in someone and make them my entire personality. I can’t and I don’t want to. I saved you from a scandal by not going through with the damn divorce, I don’t know what you want from me!”

You hear how awful you sound, and while you feel bad, it’s not enough to make you take back what you said. You’re in misery because it’ll help your family avoid more shame that you were never responsible for in the first place. It’s not lost on you that Ransom isn’t going to whisk you away from this hell and make everything better, and you’ll would never expect him to. However, Ransom is the only person who has made you feel something other than pain and sadness. Yeah, there’s Daisy, but it’s not the same. You know that she’s your best friend and you know she means well, but she makes you feel bad for staying. She says that she understands, but it’s not like you to not have any fight in you.

Yeah, you know she’s right, but you don’t need anyone’s help in making you feel any worse. Almost every other day, she’s asking when you’ll leave Jack, and it doesn’t even help that she can’t suck it up for a day and just be there for you when you have to put up with mundane bullshit like you did today. You love her, and you know she’s looking out for you, but she’s someone else who wants something of you. Demands more of you.

Being with Ransom is easy because all he wants is sex. He makes you feel amazing, he looks at you as if he adores you, and for just a moment you’re able to forget about everything that hurts and frustrates you. Somehow, being with Ransom has become the only part of your life that isn’t complicated and stressful. The most hes ever asked is what your favorite kind of porn is, which is how you ended up getting fucked senseless on his balcony while there was a party going on.

“Jack is gonna find out and it’s gonna get messy,” your Mother sniffs, quickly wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

“There’s nothing to find out.”

“Y/N-”

“Please, it’s been a long night and I’m tired. Just go home and drop it.”

“You’ll see,” is all she says before walking out.

You let out a frustrated sigh as you lean against the kitchen sink.

This is all your fault. Its gotta be. You were so naive when you were younger. Giving every one the benefit of the doubt, believing the best of everyone even when it was obvious that you shouldn’t have, ignoring all of the things you’d heard about Jack because they were only rumors...you could’ve avoided this by being an asshole just like everyone else.

“He’s asleep,” Ransom sighs as he makes his way into the kitchen, “wanna just come over with me?”

“What happened to your date?” you laugh, shaking your head as you look away from him.

“Left at some point,” he shrugs, walking over to you, “come with me.”

“Ransom-”

“It’s your anniversary and they’re a few gifts I wanna give you.”

“Ransom!” you scowl with a soft chuckle.

“I can stay here tonight if that’s easier for you.”

“What did Jack take from you that caused you to start an affair with his wife?”

Ransom looks you over before cupping your face, “don’t worry about it,” he almost whispers before dipping down and kissing you passionately.

You’re grateful that you two are pressed up against the kitchen sink, because as always , your knees go weak and you know it’s the only thing keeping you upright.

“I can’t stay tonight,” you breathe softly once you two break apart.

“What’s the point in coming back here?”

“Ransom-”

“Just leave with me.”

“Give me an hour or so, I’ll be there,” you promise with a small smile.

All he does in response is give you another soul stealing kiss before leaning his forehead against yours, then leaving.

What the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

You slowly and quietly make your way upstairs to your bedroom and let out a heavy sigh once you get to the doorway. You sit on the edge of the bed and look over at your husband (who is snoring rather loud).

Once upon a time, you would’ve felt bad about all of this. You could see in his eyes that he truly was hurt that you didn’t want to give yourself to him tonight, but what the hell did that mean to you? You had tried your hardest to make the marriage work, and he wanted nothing to do with you. Hell, he’s still going out and fucking around, but his half ass attempts at showing you an ounce of affection are supposed to change everything thats happened after all this time?

“Y/N,” he calls in his sleep as he turns over, “Y/N...I love you...love you so much,” he sighs before his snoring resumes.

There was a time that, that would’ve pulled at your heartstrings, but now? Now, there’s nothing. This marriage is just an obligation to you at this point. Jack won’t raise hell, your parents don’t have to deal with anymore shit, and you?

Well, there are worse things in life.

You change out of your outfit and into one of the Spring dresses Ransom loves you in (even though it is still a bit nippy outside), grab your car keys and phone, and head out the door to Ransom’s.

Ransom.

You know your Mother is right. He’s not going to magically make everything okay for you away and give you the life you thought you’d have, but for now, what he has to offer you is enough. You’re still not sure what exactly drew him to you, but you know you want it to last as long as possible. You can’t help but find it funny that Ransom is keeping you around for so long. From what Daisy has told you, Ransom doesn’t stick to one partner, and if he does, he makes sure to let her know that she isn’t special or the only one. But with you?

He’s not the same guy at all.

He wants you to stay, he’s possessive, he tells you (all the time) that you’re the best fuck hes ever had, and he tells you just how much he hates Jack for not taking care of you (only while fucking you of course). You’ve tried to stop whatever the hell you two are doing multiple times, but he won’t stand for it. The fact that he gets so pissed about your own husband fucking you speaks volumes, as far as you’re concerned.

But speaks to what?

You do your best to not think about it, because it’ll only drive you insane. You don’t know why he’s so possessive and that’s another reason you want to stop. During sex, you’re able to pretend that you’re not married and not doing anything wrong, well...when he isn’t bringing up what an ignorant piece of shit Jack is, you’re able to pretend, but after? When he holds you, plants feverish kisses up and down your neck, tells you that you need to leave Jack, strokes your arm until you fall asleep with your head on his chest....why? What’s the point of it?

No, he hasn’t said that there’s nothing special between you, but hes shown it. It’s not like he’s stopped with his threesomes and partying, you could hear him when he would take calls in the other room to let whoever know that he wouldn’t be fucking them that night, he showed up with dates (sometimes multiple) at every event he bothered to show up to, and he never text you outside of wanting sex from you. None of it makes any sense to you.

Yet, here you are, outside his house and knocking on his door, because you can’t fucking quit him.

“You have a key,” he growls as he picks you up and kicks the door shut.

There’s also that.

“Wasn’t sure if anyone else was here.”

“When I tell you to come over, know that you’re the only one I’m giving my time and attention to. You are always on my mind,” he husks as he pins you against the door and kisses you like he hasn’t seen you in months.

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

“You need me, baby?” he smirks as you start to grind yourself against him.

“You know I do, daddy!”

“You looked so beautiful tonight, but this dress? You know what it does to me.”

“Wanted to look my best for you, daddy!”

“Tell me you’re gonna stay tonight,” he demands before assaulting your neck with kisses.

“You know I can’t,” you whimper, trying to remember exactly why you can’t stay over (even though they’re honestly so many reasons).

“Sweetheart-”

“I have a job, daddy! I can’t...fuck, please fuck me!” you beg as you feel your release coming on.

“Look at that, haven’t even gotten your clothes off, and you’re already begging me,” he taunts against your neck, and you feel his smart-ass smirk.

“Daddy, please!”

“Daddy’s gonna take care of you, baby. Especially since that other asshole can’t, and on your anniversary of all days,” he tuts.

Yeah, Ransom is sick, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t get you off. He loves bringing up that Jack is piece of shit, and you love when he does. It’s nice to hear someone besides you acknowledge it.

Ransom takes his time pulling you apart, loving the way you beg him for more and telling him that no one has ever made you feel as good as he does. Yeah, he loves your body and loves fucking you senseless, but you know that’s one of his major kinks. For whatever reason, he needs to hear you tell him that he’s a better lover than Jack. He needs it the way people need oxygen. Whatever happened between him and Jack has made him desperate for gratification from you. At this point, you’re sure you’ll never know, but why should it matter at this point? You both take what you need from each other, and then go your separate ways.

Whatever their issues are,are between them.

“Ya know,” Ransom starts as he lights his cigarette, “I think you wore that  dress cause you knew I wouldn’t rip it.”

“You’re not wrong,” you laugh as you lay your head on his chest.

The amount of times you’ve had to lie about where your dresses have disappeared to, and have had to hide the clothes that Ransom sends you home in is starting to become an issue.

“Call out tomorrow.”

“Stop it, Ransom,” you sigh, sitting up.

“What? Call out and stay here tonight.”

“Why do you always want me to stay here?”

“I like falling asleep next to you,” he shrugs before taking a drag from his cigarette.

“I’ve gotta get back,” you mutter, ignoring how happy his little statement makes you.

“Why, Y/N? What are you so desperate to get back to?”

“I’m not desperate for anything and you know that. However, at the end of the day, I’m still married to Jack, your best friend. I can’t just stay out all night.”

“One,” he sighs as he sits up and wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you close to him, “he isn’t my best friend. Two, he stays out all night, why can’t you?”

“It’s what expected of him, not me.”

“Don’t you get tired of making everyone else happy, but being miserable the whole time?”

“Ransom, please don’t-”

“Call out,” he encourages as he kisses you shoulder.

“Stop it, you know I can’t,” you moan, trying to hold on to the little bit of resolve you have left.

“You can do whatever you want, baby,” he presses as he ashes his cigarette, “and I know you wanna stay with me.”

“Ransom, don’t. You know-”

“I know you’re not happy,” he interrupts as he ashes his cigarette, “I know that being here with me is when you’re happiest,” he continues before trailing kisses all along your collar bone.

“Ransom-”

“Tell me the truth,” he begs pathetically, as his hand travels between your legs, finding that bundle of nerves that always makes you come alive for him.

“I...I...”

“You want me over him, don’t you?”

“Don’t-”

“Tell me the truth, Y/N. Right now, you need me more than you need him?” he questions as he picks up his pace.

“Fuck! Yes! I need...need you so much, Ransom!”

“There’s my good girl,” he chuckles before pushing down and straddling you, “gonna make you forget all about the piece of shit husband of yours,” he promises as he thrusts himself inside of you.

Ransom gets his way (as always), because after the last session, you’re in no condition to drive anywhere, let alone in any mood. As you settle against him, your head on his chest, you faintly hear him saying something, but you’re too exhausted to ask him what he’s saying. Instead, you drift off to him gently stroking your back, pretending this is how your life always is.

Pretending you’re always this content.

**

“You okay? You seem a little flustered,” your assistant, Danielle, notes as she drops off more files for you.

“I’m fine,” you lie with a shy smile, “I just feel flustered because I was a little late today.”

“You’re much farther along than planned,” she laughs as she goes to exit the room, “plus, last night was your anniversary. I’m sure that’s a fair reason for you to be a little late,” she smirks and you laugh. “Just don’t forget to breathe,” she laughs before exiting your room.

‘Don’t forget to breathe.’

You laugh harder than you mean to, because you feel like you haven’t been able to breathe since you left Ransom’s this morning.

When your alarm went off this morning, Ransom groaned and protested, telling you that missing a day of work wouldn’t be bad for you. Much to his dismay (and yours), you held strong and told him that you had to go. Besides the fact that you had been out all night, you know that you need to stop whatever the hell is going on between you and Ransom.

So, as a form of protest, he teased you until you were desperate to ride his face, which then resulted into him fucking you senseless for an hour.

You were an hour and a half late for work.

However, the real reason you’re so flustered, is because you don’t understand Ransom, at all. He doesn’t want commitment, he doesn’t do love, and he doesn’t do loyalty. Hell, he’s happily sleeping with his best friend’s wife, but you’re supposed to believe that he’d actually commit to you full time?

There’s no way you’d ever let yourself believe that. You let yourself give Jack the benefit of the doubt, and look how that’s going.

So, instead of dealing with any of your thoughts, you decide to work your ass off instead, because you need something besides your current drama filled life to focus on.

“Shit, you really do work your ass off,” Ransom chuckles causing you to jump.

“Ransom! What...you can’t be here!” you whisper as he closes the door.

“Why not?”

“Ransom-”

“Relax, sweetheart. Not gonna fuck in here...just yet,” he smirks as he takes a seat in front of your desk, “I figured you could use a lunch break.”

“What?”

“Well, I know I ate breakfast this morning-”

“Ransom!”

“But you didn’t,” he laughs. “Clearly, you didn’t go home, so you didn’t make yourself a lunch. So lets go out and get something to eat.”

“I can’t just-”

“You’re not a robot, sweetheart. You need to eat.”

“Ransom...why?”

“You said the other night that I don’t know anything about you, and while that’s far from the truth, I realized that you don’t really know anything about me.”

“Ransom-”

“I like you, Y/N. You know how often I beg someone for anything? How often I let a woman stay the night? Never. I like you and I’m pretty damn sure you like me.”

“Sex doesn’t equal affection.”

Ransom just laughs and shakes his head before saying, “lunch is just a meal, darlin’. I don’t plan on fucking you on the table, unless you beg me to, so I don’t see the harm in any of it.”

“Ransom.”

“It’s just lunch,” he repeats.

Why can’t you ever tell him no?

“I only have an hour for lunch,” you mutter with a frustrated sigh.

“You can take a little longer than that.”

“Ransom-”

“Sweetheart, you’re never late to work. You’re allowed to have an off day.”

“And how would you know?”

“I’ve been keeping tabs on you.”

“Why?”

“Because,” he smirks as he gets up, “I like you.”

Against your better judgement, you get up and grab your jacket, before following him out of the building with everyone’s eyes on the both of you. Ransom has a reputation, so it only make sense that everyone is wondering what the fuck you’re doing with him. At his insistence, you ride along with him in his Beamer to wherever the hell hes decided you two should eat at for lunch. The car ride is silent, mainly because you don’t know what to say and Ransom loves how uncomfortable you are, but a small gasp leaves your mouth when he pulls up to the restaurant.

No, it wasn’t anything fancy, but it definitely wasn’t necessarily cheap.

“Ransom...you don’t...we can go someplace else.”

“Just think of this as our first date,” he laughs as he shuts off the engine. “Besides, seafood is your favorite, isn’t it?”

“Ransom, if anything, this is an early dinner and I have to get back to work-”

“No you don’t.”

“Yes I do?”

“I told your job that I want you in charge of the changes we’re making to the look of the publishing company.”

“No...Ransom, you didn’t! Jack-”

“Won’t suspect a fucking thing because he’s an idiot. Plus, this is a business lunch or dinner since I’ve already hired you.”

“You don’t even know-”

“I imagine you’re paid so well and so high up in the company for a reason, right?”

“Ransom, I-”

“I have faith you’re not gonna fuck this up. So, stop stressing, and lets go eat, okay?”

It’s more of a demand than a request, but you follow his lead nonetheless and follow him into the restaurant, fighting the urge to hide into yourself as you’re both seated. Ransom’s gaze on you is invasive and you do your absolute best to avoid it as you look around the restaurant.

Why the fuck did you agree to this?

“Welcome to Fish, my name is Jonathan and I’ll be your server tonight,” the waiter smiles at the both of you as he approaches the table, “can I start you both off with drinks?

“I’ll have a water-”

“She’ll have a Mai Tai and I’ll have a bourbon on the rocks,” Ransom interrupts with an irritated sigh.

“Coming right up,” the waiter smiles before walking off.

“Ya know, we’re not going to get anywhere if you’re tense the entire time,” he mutters as he looks over his menu.

“I don’t know exactly know what it is that you want from me.”

“Would it helped if I fucked you in the bathroom?”

“Stop it, Ransom!” you snap quietly as he lets out a full bodied laugh.

“Jesus, it’s just drinks, food, and conversation. Relax.”

“Says the one who isn’t married. How the fuck do you even know you like me?”

“I’ve liked you for a while.”

“Yeah okay.”

“I mean it.”

“How long is a while, Ransom?”

“Remember in first grade? When Tommy Smotts was picking on me about my clothes?”

“You...you remember that?”

“I think about it every day.”

“You never said anything...you never spoke to me.”

“Why would I? You were nice and, in the world we live in, there’s no room for nice people. I kept waiting for you to turn into this bitchy party girl, like every other girl did, but you just kept being sweet and kind. Then you met Jack.”

“If you liked me, why didn’t you say anything? Why’d you let Jack scoop me up?”

“Why not? It wasn’t my business or concern. You’re both adults and capable of making your own choices-”

“But you wanted me and, from what I’ve heard, you’re the king of getting what you want.”

“You’re different.”

“How so?” you ask as the waiter places your drinks down.

“Can I start you two off with some appetizers?”

“No, but keep the drinks coming. We’ll be here for a while,” Ransom smirks, his eyes never leaving you.

What the fuck have you gotten yourself into now?

**

“He’s such a liar! That’s not what happened at all!” you laugh as your next round of drinks are brought out.

“That’s what Jack said!” Ransom laughs.

“He’s a fucking liar! That’s not what happened at all! He locked us out of the Air BnB because he’s hard headed, then talked me into scaling the side of the house because he was afraid he’d fall and break something.”

“You scaled the side of a house for him even though it was his fault?”

“In my defense, I was in love,” you shrug as you take a sip of your drink.

“So, what do you know about me?” Ransom asks as he sits back a little, signature smirk playing on his lips.

“I don’t know anything about except that you like to fuck.”

“What have you heard about me?” he chuckles.

“A lot of unkind things.”

“I can take it.”

“You’re a scumbag, you only lookout for yourself, you’re a cheater, a liar, you have a terrible temper, you had a hand in Harlan’s murder, you treat women like trash....the list goes on.”

“Yet, you chose to start this relationship with me.”

“It’s not a relationship, Ransom. We fuck and that’s it.”

“Then why do you stay whenever I tell you to?”

“I’ve been asking myself that for the last few months.”

“Because you like me too.”

“I like the way you fuck me.”

“You’re still gonna hide behind that after everything?”

“I’m not hiding from anything, Ransom. I’m married to someone else, and in all honesty, this shouldn’t have ever started.”

“Then why did you let it start?”

“You caught me in a vulnerable state.”

“And the second time?”

“You caught me in a vulnerable state,” you smirk and he laughs.

“Well, what do you want to know?”

“Why you want me.”

“I like you.”

“Ransom, that’s not a fucking reason.”

“It is for me. I’ve never been infatuated with someone for this long, it only makes sense that I should act on it, don’t you agree?”

“It wasn’t enough for you to stop the wedding.”

“That’s what you think.”

“Ransom-”

“I like you, Y/N. I like you a lot and more than I should. I’m not going to tell you to leave him, because it’s not enough for you is it? I don’t want to commit and you don’t wanna commit to me because you have no reason to.”

“Ransom-”

“But you’re still here though, aren’t you?”

“So what?”

“You want to explore this as much as I do.”

“I don’t want to explore anything with you, Ransom,” you sigh as your phone starts going off. “Jesus Christ.”

“You can answer him.”

“I don’t want to answer him. God, how is this my life now?”

“You can always come with me.”

“Ha ha,” you mumble before taking a long sip of your drink. “It’s late, I have to get back.”

“We haven’t eaten yet.”

“What is this Ransom? Why are you fucking with me?”

“I’m not, I told you; I like you.”

“You don’t-”

“You love to dance around while you cook, you think pants are ridiculous and that’s why you’re always wearing dresses and skirts, you love horror movies but have to watch something funny after or you can’t sleep, you love football and baseball, you’ll listen to anything but you favor 90’s grunge, you spend the first half of your Saturdays watching cartoons, you spend most of your holiday time volunteering at shelters, should I go on?”

“...how...”

“I pay more attention than you think, sweetheart. That crystal blue earring and necklace dragonfly set Jack got you for your two year anniversary? That was my idea because he doesn’t pay any fucking attention to you and doesn’t have a fucking clue what you like,” he mutters, frustration very apparent.

“Then why didn’t you say anything before now?”

“I told you why.”

“And I don’t believe you.”

“Y/N-”

“You’re the one that wanted to do this. Answer the question.”

“I just...”

“You just what?”

“You were never gonna give me a chance, Y/N. Between my reputation, my shitty family...you have more reasons to say no than yes.”

“You didn’t even try.”

“What would you have said?”

“Then? I honestly don’t know. Now? No.”

“Why no now?!”

“Ransom, that can’t be a serious question.”

“You like me-”

“I don’t know you! I just...you just...it’s complicated, Ransom. All of this is so complicated. I just wanna go away.”

“Lets go away together,” he suggests as if it’s not a big deal.

“You’re hilarious, truly. You could be a fucking comedian.”

“Lets fucking go. It’s not like Jack will notice. He barely pays attention to you now,” he mutters.

“Thanks for that,” you snap as your phone goes off again. “Fuck, let me just...hello?”

“I’ve been calling you for over an hour!” Jack snaps. “Where have you been?!”

“I do have a job, ya know. I decided to treat myself to dinner.”

“You haven’t been home-”

“Can we not do this? I put up with your shit last night and I don’t fucking feel like dealing with it again tonight.”

“Y/N...I’m sorry, alright? I didn’t want it to happen that way. I really...I wanted to get it right.”

“Funny how you always want to get it right and still fuck it up every single time.”

“Just come home, please? I’ll make it up to you-”

“It was our fucking anniversary and you embarrassed me, yet again, in front of the people you insisted we have over. There’s no way can make it up to me. It’s done. Four years of this shit-”

“Stop it. You know I love and would do anything for you-”

“No, I don’t know any of that, because you’ve never shown or proved any of that.”

“Just come tonight and I’ll-”

“Why should I, Jack? Give me a good fucking reason.”

“Because I love you,” he sighs and you can tell that he’s tired.

Yeah well, you’re tired too.

“I don’t feel like doing this with you, Jack. Not today.”

“Please just come home-”

“What for?”

“You’re my wife, Y/N. You should already be-”

“Me being your wife doesn’t seem to stop you from all of the shady shit you always fucking do.”

“Please-”

“I don’t know, I might stay at Daisy’s again.”

“I don’t like you staying over there! She stays out all night and-”

“So do you,” you laugh incredulously, “at least she pays attention to me.”

“Honey-”

“I gotta go, I’ll talk to you later,” you sigh before hanging up.

“Ya know, he’s gonna text me soon. Should I tell him I have plans or...”

“I can’t keep doing this with you, Ransom. I-”

“Why not? It’s not like he’s being faithful to you, so what’s the big deal?”

“Because this isn’t who I am, Ransom. This is never the life I wanted! It’s not...it’s not the life I thought I’d....” you sigh as you wipe away a lone tear.

Why can’t you be more selfish? Why can’t you jus walk away from all of this?

“Lets go away together, just you and me,” Ransom suggests again.

“That’s not funny-”

“I’m not joking.”

“We can’t just go away-”

“He isn’t going to notice, baby. I know you don’t want to face that fact, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s just that: a fact. Tell him it’s for work, and we’ll go wherever you want.”

“Ransom...this isn’t a relationship.”

“It can be.”

“No, it really can’t. We can’t keep-”

“You like me, babe.”

“Whether I do or not-”

“You do.”

“Ransom, I’m married. It doesn’t matter that Jack is an asshole, this isn’t me. Sleeping around and having a “relationship” on the side...God, what the fuck is wrong with me?!”

“You’re unhappy.”

“You’re never going to commit to me-”

“You don’t know that.

“Well would you? Would you walk away from all of it just for me?”

“Would you?”

“I’m not the one with something to prove, Ransom. You have reputation, I don’t.”

“That’s fair,” he sighs as he leans back.

“I need to get home.”

“You need to eat.”

“Ransom-”

“Another round of drinks?” the waiter asks with a smile.

Before you can even think, Ransom is answering, “she’ll have the crab-stuffed lobster and I’ll take the surf and turf, and yeah, we’ll take another round of drinks.”

The waiter just smiles and nods before walking off.

“I have to go!”

“You haven’t eaten all day and you’ve had 4 Mai Tai’s. I’m not taking you back on an empty stomach.”

“You don’t have to worry about me.”

“It seems that’s all I ever do these days,” he mutters as he finishes off the rest of his drink as the new ones arrive.

“So...what’s wrong with you?” you question softly, starting to play with your fingers.

“Excuse me?”

“Why does everyone think you’re so terrible?”

“Because I am,” he smirks, as if he’s proud of himself.

“Then what the hell is so special about me?”

“Because you’re not like everyone else here. You’re not like the other...you didn’t let all of this shit leave you jaded. Even now, dealing with Jack and me...you’re being nicer than either of us deserve...I tried, okay? I just wanted to fuck and that would’ve been fine, but you...you’re still the same girl I had a crush in kindergarten, whether you see it or not.”

“No, I’m really not.”

“Daisy is still your best friend and she’s probably one of the biggest party girls around. You’ve never been anything but loyal to her and you’ve always defended her. Whenever you bother to go out, you laugh the loudest and dance until your feet hurt or your heels break. You still donate entirely too much money to charities and I know that you still give money to homeless guys on the street. You’re actually a good person, Y/N. Maybe if I wasn’t such a piece of shit, I would have pursued you a while ago, but I know that I’m not worthy of you. Hell, no one in this little group of shit heads is, but it doesn’t change the fact that I want you. I want you to myself and I want you bad. Why do you think I never kick you out of bed? Always beg you to stay? Beg at all?

Then Jack just fucking parades you around all the goddamn time...the fuck is so special about him? I took notice of you before everyone else did, so why the fuck does he get to be married to you? Why the fuck does he get to have your love and affection?” he scowls as the food is delivered.

Cue light bulb.

“Ransom, am I....did Jack steal me from you?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Ransom-”

“He didn’t even pay attention to you until I said something about you. I was fucked up at some fucking event my parents were throwing...you were wearing that dress with the fucking flowers...the one I destroyed last month, which really wasn’t my fault because your tits looked amazing in it. Anyway, I said something about how you always look beautiful and it’s frustrating...two weeks later, he’s flirting with you at your parents fucking dinner party.”

“So why...he never actually wanted me?”

“He did, but he didn’t see a reason to act on it until I said something. Apparently, I get everything I want and he wasn’t about to let that happen again. The thing is, I never would have gone after you, Y/N. Seeing you with him though...Y/N, he’s a fucking bastard and you know it.”

“So this just a pissing competition between the two of you?!”

“Can’t be much of a competition if he doesn’t know we’re seeing each other.”

“We’re not-”

“Yes we are, Y/N. Yeah, it’s just fucking, but you have feelings for me just as much as I have feelings for you. I may be the one asking you to stay over, but you always do. You’re in just as deep as I am.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Say that we can go away together and explore this more.”

“Ransom, I’m married-”

“To a complete piece of shit! Babe, you know you can leave him. You can leave and do whatever you want.”

“Like taking a chance on you?”

”Would it really be so bad?” he asks so softly, you barely hear him.

“Ransom, I just can’t take-”

“Why not? What’s so wrong with it? It’s a bit too fucking late have a moral compass about all of this.”

“You didn’t have to kiss me.”

“And you could’ve said no,” he replies with a coy smirk, but his tone lets you know that he’s hurt.

“I have to get back.”

“Eat.”

“Ransom-”

“Eat first and then I’ll take you back to your car,” he sighs in defeat.

The rest of the time spent at the restaurant is spent in silence and you feel like shit. Ransom is a lot of things, but you can tell he meant everything he said. When it was time to pay, Ransom whipped out his wallet before you could even reach for your purse. When you try and thank him, he just shakes his head and offers you a small smile.

When the fuck did all of this get so complicated?

“I can pay you back for the dinner,” you mumble softly once Ransom pulls up next to your car in the parking garage.

“It’s on me.”

“It was expensive-”

“It wasn’t expensive at all.”

“Okay, to normal people, it was expensive.”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” he chuckles softly.

“We’ve got to stop, Ransom. This isn’t...it’s better if we stop.”

“Do you want to?”

“That’s not the point-”

“Sweetheart, do you want to stop?” he asks, taking your chin in his forefinger and forces your attention on him.

You don’t have the strength to lie and tell him ‘no’, because you don’t want to stop. Everything you’ve been looking for from Jack, Ransom gives you without hesitation. No, it’s not love, but there’s still affection, passion, and pleasure.

God, so much fucking pleasure.

The fact that you’re not saying a thing lets him know that he has you, and without hesitation, he’s dipping down and kissing you passionately.

And just like that, you’re reminded why you can’t quit him.

His kisses are always so desperate and urgent, but he’s got the softest fucking lips. No matter how aggressive and filthy the sex is, there’s still a softness in the way that he holds you. The way he caresses your face, grips your hair, cradles you...it all feels like heaven.

Ransom always feels like heaven.

In no time at all, you’re climbing into his lap and straddling him. Since he ripped off your panties last night, the only one who has to do any work is him.

“Always so wet for me, baby,” he groans as he teases your clit.

“You make me feel so good, Ransom! I can’t get enough,” whimper, grinding yourself against his hard length.

“You want me, sweetheart?”

“I always want you, daddy!”

“Then take it, baby. Take whatever you want from me, I’m yours,” he husks against your neck before kissing it.

Yes, you’re the one who keeps saying that you two need to stop, but it’s hard to think straight whenever his lips are anywhere on your body.

The gasp that leaves your mouth as you slide yourself down on his length has him smirking against your neck, “I love it when you make that sound.”

“You stretch me so good, baby,” you moan as you start to ride him.

Since you two are in the drivers seat of his car, your body is pressed up against his, and that makes his tight grip on you that much more pleasurable. Feeling his breath on your skin makes you all that much more desperate in the most pleasurable way.

“Could get lost in you forever,” he grunts, thrusting up into you, causing you to lull your head back and moan, “you look so fucking beautiful, baby. Most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

You look down at him, your hair falling in front of your face, and you start thinking about it. Yeah, pleasure is slightly clouding your judgement, but would it really be so bad to go away with him? Seeing if there’s anything more to this than just sex? Hes got a point: you are tired of making everyone else happy while you’re miserable, and for however fleeting it is, Ransom makes you happy.

However, the fact remains that Ransom is Ransom, and you’re terrified of getting hurt again.

“Gonna...gonna cum soon, baby,” you moan, gripping his shoulders tight.

“Give it to me, sweetheart! Cum hard for daddy!”

“Fuck!” you gasp as you squirt hard, leaning your forehead against his as he fills you with his desire, a low guttural growl leaving his mouth as he buries his face into the crook of your neck.

You really do wish you could just stop.

“Come home with me.”

“I can’t, baby,” you breathe, pushing your hair back as you lift your head up.

“Sweetheart-”

“I’ve gotta go, Ransom. Thank you for dinner,” you smile at him before kissing him softly.

You ease yourself off of him slowly, navigating your way back to the passengers seat as gracefully as you can while his release drips down your leg, and smooth out your dress. You take a deep breath before grabbing your purse and getting out of Ransom’s car.

You don’t know why your seems to break a little, telling yourself that it’s not because you feel something other than desperate desire for Ransom, because why would you? How could you? You barely know the man. But you know it’s a lie. Somehow, Ransom has found a place in your heart.

He did the moment you opened your legs for him the first time.

**

It’s been forever since you’ve fucked in a car, so it makes sense that your legs are sore as you walk up the steps to the place where you live. As you fish through your purse for your house key, the door whips open revealing a furious Jack.

Great.

“Where the fuck were you?!” he demands as soon as you walk in.

“I told you that I took myself out for dinner, as usual, you weren’t listening,” you mutter, hanging your jacket up and kicking your shoes off.

“I called Daisy and she said that you hadn’t been by since you left for work this morning!”

Thank you Daisy for knowing when to lie.

“Are you fucking high? Cause that’s the only way to explain this conversation.”

“Don’t get cute with me!” he snaps, following you into the kitchen.

Yeah, he’s high as shit.

“I don’t understand why you’re getting mad about information you already knew, but okay, lets have another senseless argument. What’s wrong with poor old Jack tonight?” you sigh as reach for a glass.

“You don’t stay out all fucking night, Y/N! You can’t-”

“You do it all the fucking time, Jack! At least you knew where the fuck I was,” you scoff, pouring yourself a glass of whiskey.

When the hell did you start drinking so much?

“That’s different! I’m trying to save this-”

“Please do not say this marriage,” you laugh incredulously, finally turning to face him. “You’ve done nothing make sure this marriage fails for the last two fucking years. So no, you don’t get to stand here and bitch to me because you had to jerk your own dick for the last few months when you can’t find a cunt to get cozy in,” you spit, venom laced in every word.

You see the storm brewing in his eyes before you feel the sting across your face.

Yes, he’s come close to hitting a few times, especially when he’s fucked up, but hes never actually done it.

Your shock soon turns into an all consuming rage and you slap him back, with as much force as you can muster.

“You little bitch!” he yells before lunging at you.

Before you know it, you two are in an all out brawl in the kitchen. Thank God the the knives are in the drawers, because nothing seems to be off limits. If Jack isn’t hitting you with his fists or a plate, he’s biting you, and if can’t kick him, you’re reaching for whatever the closest object is and smashing him over the head with it. However, in the end, he gets the upper hand and is straddling you, beating you as if you’re the one who started this mess of a marriage in the first place.

When all is said, you lay on the floor bloodied and bruised, as he catches his breath and slowly rises to his feet.

“You are my wife, Y/N. It’s time you start fucking act like it. Don’t make me have to put you in line again. When I get back, I expect all of this shit to be cleaned up,” he demands, kicking you before he walks out of the kitchen.

You quietly sob as you hear him shuffle around, putting on his shoes and grabbing his keys, before you finally hear the front door slam. This is why you’re sticking around? To be some piece of shit’s personal punching bag when you give him a taste of his own medicine? No, there has to be a life that’s better than this.

You give yourself a few moments to get yourself together, before you finally pull yourself up and pour yourself another drink, seeing as the other one was ruined when you threw the glass at Jack. You hobble out to the living area where your purse is and grab it, searching through it until you find your phone and calling the only person you have the strength and energy for at the moment.

“Hey babe, I’m on my way out. What’s up?” Daisy asks when she finally answers the phone.

“I need you to take me to the hospital,” you mumble since your lips have started to swell.

“What happened?!”

“I’ll tell you when you get here.”

With that, you hang up and make your way back into the kitchen, trying to ignore the pain in your heart that seems to outweigh the physical pain you’re feeling. You take a seat on a bar stool and resume your drinking when you feel your phone buzz.

Part Time Lover: I know you said no, but just come over tonight. I know Jack is out, cause he just called me all fucked up, so just stay over. Jesus, you can even start keeping clothes here if you want, I just want you here.

You don’t mean to laugh (mainly because it fucking hurts), but what else can you do? Not only did your husband just beat the shit out of you, but now you have Ransom practically begging you to start a relationship with him. You went from having the perfect life to living in a goddamn soap opera, and you’re not even sure who’s in charge anymore.

Cause it sure as shit isn’t you.

You’re in the middle of pouring your second drink when there’s a pounding on your door. You make your way over to it as fast as you can, your new limp slowing you down, but when you open the door you wish you would have taken time because as soon as you open the door.

“WHAT HAPPENED?!” Daisy yells as she makes her way inside.

“Please, I can’t do yelling right now.”

“Y/N-”

“Jack and I got into a fight. He won.”

“Jack did this?!”

“He stays out all night and it’s fine. I stay out all night and this happens.” “Yeah, he called me about that. Where the hell were you?”

“I’m not really ready to talk about that just yet. Can you please take me to the hospital? I’ve too many drinks and my entire body hurts, and I need to change the locks before that piece of shit gets home.”

“Yeah, c’mon. Lets get you fixed up,” she sighs, grabbing your sweater off the coat rack and helping you get into it.

“I need you to help me with the locks being changed, please.”

“Anything, whatever you need,” she promises as she helps you to her car.

“Dais, I promise I’ll tell where I was...what I’ve been up to, I just-”

“That doesn’t matter right now, wen just need to get you some help.”

It’s time like these that you’re extremely grateful for Daisy. No, you don’t have a habit of getting beat up by anyone, but Daisy always knows when to press on certain subjects and when to let them go. Yes, you still wish that she could suck it up from time to time and just be there for you when you need her, but she still shows up for you more than anyone else, and supports all of your good decisions more than anyone else.

By the time you show up at the hospital and are shown a room, you just want to go to bed. You know that you need to do this so that you can get some sort of restraining order against Jack, but you’re just so fucking tired. You’re about to tell Daisy your plan when your phone starts buzzing again.

Part Time Lover: Alright, what the fuck is going on? Jack just showed up with a busted lip, a bruise on his jaw, and there’s swelling around his right eye. He’s also bleeding from his ear and it looks like a bite mark? What the hell happened?!

Y/N: Don’t let him leave your house.

Part Time Lover: What happened? Are you okay?

Y/N: Ransom, do not let him leave your house.

Part Time Lover: I’m coming over.

Y/N: Ransom, please. Just keep him there and I don’t know, get him drunk or something.

Part Time Lover: Fine.

“Alright,” you tell Daisy softly, “Jack is at Ransom’s. Call Dan’s Locksmith Shop and tell them you need an emergency job done and that cost isn’t an issue. Meet them there-”

“What about you? I can’t leave you here-”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll take a car service or something.” “Babe-”

“Daisy, I want him out of the house. Please, you can sleepover tonight if it’ll make you feel better, but I’ll feel a lot better once this is done. Please.”

“Fine,” she sighs in frustration.

“Now, they’re three hidden entrances, do you remember?”

“Yeah, and the trick window by the cellar.”

“Perfect. Now, have two keys made. One for me and one for you-”

“I get a key?”

“You always get a key,” you smirk and she laughs. “I’ll call you when I’m on my way home,” you promise.

“Are you sure you’re okay to be alone?”

“I’ll be fine, please.”

“Alright alright,” she sighs, kissing your forehead before making her way out.

As she goes out, the doctor comes in, and immediately gives you a look of pure sympathy.

That’s the last thing you want right now.

“Looks like you got beat up pretty bad. Wanna tell me what happened?” he asks softly, taking a seat on the chair in front of you.

You mean to tell the truth but what comes out instead is, “I got into a car accident.”

Filling out the paperwork would be a bitch and you don’t want the whole damn county in your business. You’re not even a member of the country club, but even you know how badly those women gossip and how vicious they can be. Not even thinking about how much you don’t wanna hear your mother’s thoughts on the situation, you don’t want to deal with the looks, the whispers, and the sympathetic looks.

‘Poor little Y/N, ended up in the same type of marriage as her mother.’

You’re not about to the new town gossip topic.

You can tell that the doctor doesn’t believe you, but he doesn’t push it

. “Well, we should take a few x-rays and you’re gonna need some stitches.”

“Stitch me up, doc,” you smile weakly.

As the night goes on and you get fixed up, you can’t stop thinking about everything Ransom said. The fact that he remembered you sticking up for him all those years ago, how he never asked you out because of fear of rejection, and Jack.

The fact that your husband only went after you out of pure spite...how could you not see it? The more you think about it, the more you see all the signs you missed and you just want to kick yourself. At least Ransom had a slightly more believable story, because you both had that interaction...that one time, but with Jack...you two had never even spoken until that day. The more you think about it, the more you want to cry.

While doctor finishes up the last few stitches over your eye, you try and think about what your next move is. How the hell do you get out of your marriage and what the fuck are you gonna do about Ransom?

**

It’s been two weeks since the fight with Jack, which means that its been two weeks since hes stepped foot into the house.

That was a shit show.

“Y/N, are you fucking serious?! You changed the fucking locks on me?! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!” he screamed, pounding on the door outside.

“You’re okay, I promise,” Daisy tried to reassure you as shook in her arms with tears streaming down your face. “He can’t get in here, I made them check multiple times that everything was taken care of.”

“OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR, Y/N! THIS IS MY FUCKING HOUSE TOO!” he roared, only pounding on the door harder.

Eventually, he got fed up and called the cops, but the minute they saw your face they told him it may be best for him to go somewhere else. That’s when the constant calling and texting started. A million apologies, promising that it’ll never happen again, telling you that he just wasn’t himself that night, and a million other useless promises. When that didn’t work, he called for help from your mother.

That didn’t make anything better.

“Y/N, open up this damn door right now and tell me what the hell is going on!” she screeched from the other side of the door.

You let out a frustrated sigh as you made your way over to the front the door.

The second you opened the door, her whole demeanor changed. “Oh sweetheart...he didn’t say....what did you do to provoke him?”

“This is my fault?!”

“I’m just saying...you know his father has a temper and I know that you can push buttons sometimes-”

“Okay, I’m you fucking daughter! Just this one time, can you take my side?!”

“I’m not saying that I’m not, it’s just...you already make more money than him and you know it bruises his ego-”

“Then maybe he should work harder instead of sleeping with every woman that flashes herself at him!”

“I’m not trying to make you upset-”

“Then you wouldn’t have asked what I did to provoke him! Jesus Christ! I stayed in this marriage for you! I tried to make it work for you! And this,” you emphasized as you pointed to your face, “is what happened! So you don’t get to come here and make me feel like shit!” you screamed at her.

She didn’t say anything else, she just nodded and walked away.

There was also the Ransom issue.

You hadn’t spoken to him since he asked him to keep Jack at his house, and he was getting fed up. It doesn’t help that he still doesn’t know what the hell happened, so after the fourth day of you ignoring him, he decided to act on revenge.

Which backfired on him.

“Hey, remember that house party Ransom had a month ago? The one where he fucked that chick on his balcony for everyone to see?” Daisy asked with a sly smirk on her face as she brought dinner into the bedroom.

You froze almost instantly, “uhm, I don’t think I was there.”

“Are you sure? I’m pretty sure I saw you there. I know for a fact that Jack was there.”

“I didn’t go because I didn’t feel like watching Jack flirt with other girls.”

“Hmm, maybe that’s why you let Ransom fuck you on his balcony.”

“Daisy-”

“He snitched on himself,” she laughed, loving the shocked look on your face. “I honestly didn’t think you had it in you! Not only did you cheat on Jack in front of everyone, but you also got your insides re-arranged in public?! Little Miss Modesty?!”

“Stop it, Dais,” you commented, feeling so incredibly small.

“What?! I’m fucking proud, honestly. Fuck Jack, at least now you’ve been fucked properly.”

“Dais-”

“You can’t tell me you feel bad about it!”

“It’s been going on for almost a year! I feel awful!”

“You’ve kept this from me for a year?!”

“I’ve kept it from everyone,” you sighed, feeling even worse, “we were just in our own little world and it was nice to have something for myself. It started on Jack and I’s vow renewal party last year, and every time I tried to stop...I just fucking couldn’t. Yeah, I know Ransom still sleeps around, but when I’m with him...Daisy, I just fucking forget how miserable I am for a while. Everything Jack hasn’t made me feel in the last few years, Ransom makes me feel, and I know, okay? I know it’s wrong and all of that, but he makes it so fucking hard to quit.”

“That’s the Ransom effect for sure,” she scoffed.

“Wait, how did he snitch on himself?”

“Well, he brought me back to his house last night and we were in the middle of hooking up when he moaned your name.”

“Excuse me?!”

What a piece of shit.

“Oh God, what did I do wrong?”

“Not you, him,” you growled.

“Fuck.”

“The night that everything happened with Jack...he took me out to dinner and said all of these things...then, he goes and fucks you?! My best friend?!”

“If I had known, I wouldn’t have-”

“It’s not on you, Dais, it’s him. Whatever, it doesn’t fucking matter.”

“I mean...I wouldn’t...ya know what? I’m keeping my mouth shut.”

“Oh no you don’t! Tell me!”

“You kept this whole thing from me for a year-”

“That’s different and you know it!”

“Babe-”

“Tell me, Dais.”

“I don’t know, maybe it was because he was drunk, or maybe it’s because he’s annoyed that hes been having to play housemates with Jack for two weeks, but the man really does seem hurt.”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t tell him anything, and he was drunk, but he admitted that he is worried about you. He’s mad that you won’t answer him...babe, why won’t you answer him? What happened?

“Daisy-”

“I never push, your secrets are always your own, but you’ve got to tell me something. This isn’t you, Ransom doesn’t care about anyone, but now he’s having revenge sex with your best friend, well...attempting to, and you’re getting mad about it? Ya gotta give me something, babe.”

So, you reluctantly told her everything. It’s not like you don’t trust Daisy with everything, but you were ashamed of yourself. You were ashamed of all of it. No matter what had happened between you and Jack, you weren’t a cheater. The relationship had turned you into someone you weren’t and for what? Some fractures, a busted lip, a few broken ribs, and a few too many bruises? Who the hell are you?

“It’s not like I want you to end up with Ransom,” Daisy started after you finished, “but I don’t think he’s lying.”

“Dais-”

“I’m not rooting for the kid-”

“He attempted to sleep with you, knowing that you’re my best friend-”

“Like I said, I’m not rooting for the guy, but I also get it. I genuinely do, from both sides. Ransom has never given a shit about anyone other than himself, at least not as far as anyone knows of, and then you came along. You gave him all the attention he wanted then took it away. Of course he doesn’t know how to react. I’ll definitely slash his tires the next time I see him, but I understand where he’s coming from.”

“He still tried to fuck you! He did!”

“Eh,” she shrugged, “his game was off and he didn’t cum. Plus, he was thinking about you, so that also takes points away. Tried is the right word.”

“Daisy!” you laughed, finally taking out your chopsticks and opening your container of dumplings. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. I don’t care.”

“Don’t lie to me, or yourself for that matter.”

“I’m not!”

“Babe, if you didn’t care, you wouldn’t have gotten so upset about him putting his dick in me,” she smiled sympathetically.

You hate that she had a point, because that meant all of the words he said to you in the restaurant actually meant something to you.

However, you’re still pissed at him, which is why you still haven’t responded to him.

You let out an aggravated sigh as your phone goes off for what feels like the millionth time. If it’s not Jack, it’s Ransom.

Part Time Lover: Jesus, can you just answer your fucking phone and talk to me?!

Y/N: Go away, Ransom.

Part Time Lover: WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO?! I’M HOUSING YOUR HUSBAND RIGHT NOW! I THINK IT’S PRETTY FUCKING NICE OF ME SEEING AS HE’S WITH YOU AND I’M NOT!

Y/N: Besides try and fuck Daisy? Nothing.

Part Time Lover: Why are you mad at me if there’s nothing going on between us?

Y/N: You’re a fucking asshole, Ransom. I’m done with all of this shit.

Part Time Lover: The fuck you are! This is bullshit, I’m coming over!

Y/N: DO NOT!

When he doesn’t respond, you know you’re fucked and that he’s on his way. Besides the fact that you don’t want him to see you in your current state, you just don’t want to see him. Whatever you’re feeling towards him, you just want it go away, because he’s too much of a risk. You’re already in a fragile state and you need to start taking better care of your heart.

Yes, Ransom had shown you in his own way that he could be sweet when he wanted to be, but he also fucked Daisy all because you wouldn’t answer his calls and texts. He could have fucked anyone else, but he fucked Daisy to hurt you. You’re not about to leave Jack just to end up in the same damn situation.

You just want to start fresh. Hell, maybe you’ll even move. You’ve been tired of Marlborough for years anyway.

With an aggravated groan, you get out of bed and decide it’s time for you to figure out dinner. Daisy is probably gonna be out all night, so you really only need to worry about yourself. A sharp bang on your front door causes you to jump as you reach the landing, and you make a mental note to slap the shit out of Ransom when you’re back to full health.

“I know you’re home, Y/N! Open up so we can talk!” Ransom demands and you roll your eyes.

Home. What’s it like to have one of those?

“I’m not leaving and you know I’ll stand here all goddamn night if I have to! Open the fucking door!”

Besides the fact that you don’t want to get into a screaming match at 8pm, you really don’t want him to see all your scars and bruises. Hell, you’ve been working from home since everything happened. Ransom constantly calls you the most beautiful woman hes ever seen, but now? God, he’s gonna think you’re hideous now.

“Y/N!”

“What, Ransom?”

“I wanna talk to you, not your fucking door. Open up!”

“Ransom-”

“Jesus Christ, I’ll keep my fucking hands to myself, okay?! Open the fucking door!”

You let out a defeated sigh and unlock the door, cracking it a little and looking down, “what?”

“Will you please look at me? Listen, the Daisy thing was-”

“I don’t wanna talk about that and I don’t wanna talk to you. Now, please leave me alone.”

“Look at me.”

“Ransom-”

“Why won’t you look at me?”

“Cause I don’t wanna see you, obviously.”

“Now you’re lying to me.”

“Stop it. Just go-”

“What don’t you want me to know? Does this have to do with why you kicked Jack out?”

“Ransom-”

“Look at me, sweetheart,” he demands but much softer now.

You say nothing as your eyes start to well up and you keep your gaze on your feet. You feel his finger on your chin and you turn away.

“Please,” you cry.

“Look at me, sweetheart. Please, look at me.”

You slowly look up and his eyes go from genuine concern to pure rage.

“Jack did this?” he asks, trying to keep an even tone, but his fists are clenched.

“He was mad that I didn’t come home that night, the one before we went to dinner at Fish...he was all fucked up when I got home and we got into an argument. Things were said, he got even more pissed off, then he slapped me. I slapped him back...we ended up fighting on the kitchen floor. Ransom, the only people who know are him, my parents, Daisy, and now you. Please don’t-”

“How bad was it?” “Ransom-”

“Sweetheart.”

“My lips were swollen, a broken rib, a few stitches-”

“A broken rib?! Did he fucking kick you?!”

“Ransom, please don’t-” “I’ll fucking kill him, I swear to God!”

“Ransom, stop it. I’m fine-”

“I know you don’t believe it, but you are mine. He doesn’t get to...I’m gonna snap his fucking neck!”

“Ransom please!”

“Are you okay? What can I do?”

“You don’t have to do anything, baby.”

God, that didn’t take long, did it?

“I’m gonna take care of that fucker-”

“Ransom please. I don’t need this getting out-”

“It won’t get out, but he doesn’t get to act like-”

“Please let it go.”

“No.”

With that, he was storming off towards his Beamer, slamming his door shut before speeding off.

Well, at least he didn’t run in the other direction when he saw you.

He’s so fucking hot headed though. You’ve heard about his temper, but you’ve never experienced it first hand. Yeah, it warms your heart that he’s so protective over you, but you don’t want him getting into trouble over you.

Especially when you aren’t even sure what the hell is going on between you two.

You don’t even have an appetite anymore. Instead, you make yourself a bag of popcorn and decide that a night of TV is whats best. Yeah, your phone is upstairs, but you’re spent. Horror films and popcorn will you set you straight for the night.

For the time being, you just want to forget.

**

“You like the party I threw for you, sweetheart?” Ransom grunted as he fucked into you hard from behind.

“F-for....for me?” you moaned, trying to think on anything other than the fact your body ached with pleasure.

Ransom had decided to throw a masquerade party and insisted that you come. He threw it together last minute, so you barely had a chance to get something together, but luckily the town Halloween shop had a few antique masks left.

It was very ‘Phantom of the Opera’ of him.

When you got there, Jack was already all over some brunette and you rolled your eyes, but you promised him you stay and make sure to say hi to him. In your defense, he was telling you all of this while he fucked you into your fourth orgasm while you two were in the shower.

You would’ve promised him anything.

When you finally spotted him in his study with a few of his friends, you smiled and gave him a small wave. You turned, ready to make your way to the kitchen, when you felt an arm around your waist.

“What the-”

The lips that cut you off instantly told you who it was. You were ready to push him until you remembered that you didn’t have to. Everyone was in masks, so it’s not like anyone would know it was you he was kissing. You barely ever left the house, no one would ever believe that you’re cheating on Jack, and it was a party at Ransom’s.

Everyone was probably already too fucked up.

“You came,” he breathed, once you broke apart.

“You asked me to,” you rasped, your mind in a haze from his surprisingly passionate kiss.

“Get yourself a drink and make your way up to my room.”

“What if someone’s in there?”

“No one here is dumb enough to do that,” he smirked as he went to walk away. “Keep your mask on,” he added before disappearing into the crowd.

At the time, you didn’t think anything of it. It was Ransom after all.

You made yourself a strong drink and made your way upstairs, ignoring all the sounds coming from the spare rooms. You were only a few sips in when Ransom burst into the room, closing his door and locking it.

“You look amazing, sweetheart,” Ransom complimented as he made his way over to you. In no time at all, he had your dress torn and off the floor. “Now, you look even better,” he laughed with that devilish grin of his.

From that moment on, the words you two were saying was ‘fuck me harder’, ‘you daddy’s fat cock so well,’ ‘please me cum, and things of those articulate nature.

So what the hell was talking about this being your party?

“Remember baby? That movie we watched the other night?” he husked, but you could hear the grin in his voice.

Movie? You two never watch any...oh. OH!

“Daddy-” “Got so fucking wet and excited for me watching that woman get fucked in front of everyone,” he cooed and you clenched around him at just the memory. “See? You loved it. So, daddy threw you this party so we could re-enact it.”

“C-can’t, daddy! So many people!”

“I’ll take care of that, Sweet Thing. That’s why daddy told you to keep the mask on. You’re my filthy little thing, and I don’t want anyone else knowing about it,” he growled before he pulled out, causing you to whine in dissatisfaction. “Go stand in front of that window, baby. Can’t fucking wait to fuck you like the nasty little thing you are.”

The logical part of your brain was screaming ‘FUCK NO! TOO FAR!’, but the blissed out part had you standing in front of that sliding glass door almost instantly. The fact that your husband was there and would more than likely recognize you didn’t seem to phase you at all. Ransom was the one who gave you everything you wanted, so Ransom was the one who got your loyalty at the end of the day.

No matter how fucked up or stupid that may have been.

“Look all the people who came to your party, pretty girl,” Ransom groaned as he easily slid cock back inside of you.

“Fuck!” you cried out, gripping the curtains tight as you tried to hold on.

You already knew you were gonna be sore in the morning.

“You know daddy would do anything to make you happy, right Sweet Thing? I’ll always take care of you...I’ll give you anything you want!”

“Daddy...I...”

“Gettin fucked so good you can’t even think huh?” he chuckled. “It’s about to get so much better, Sweet Thing.”

In one swift move, Ransom’s arm was around your waist and pulling you close, as his other hand undid the latch on the sliding glass door and he pulled it open.

Fuck.

“How’s everyone enjoying the party?!” he called as he walked you two out onto the balcony.

He was only met with cheers and cat calls, but you couldn’t feel any shame or embarrassment. Yes, it was wrong on so many levels, but the pleasure was just too much for you to focus on that at the moment. In that moment, you were living out one of your dirtiest fantasies with the man who worshiped your body and fucked you like you were the most important person in his world.

Guilt and shame be dammed.

Ransom bent you over and gripped the railing tight. You knew he was doing it to make sure you felt more comfortable, because that man had fucked you in so many positions, you knew him fucking you standing wouldn’t be a problem. With you bent over, your hair is covering your face, and even with a mask on, it makes it all that much harder to figure out just who the fuck you are. The gesture, though small and during a heinous act, was enough to tug on your heartstrings just a bit.

“Who’s that sweet little thing and when’s my turn?!” one of his friends called from below.

“I’m afraid she’s all mine,” Ransom laughed. “She’s such a good little slut, I’m too jealous to share. Isn’t that right, baby?”

All you can focus on doing is nodding, because your orgasm is building.

“I need to get me one!” Jack called and you mentally rolled your eyes.

Fucking idiot.

“Too fucked out again, baby?” Ransom coos in the condescending tone that always makes you whimper. “Be a good girl for daddy and I’ll take you back inside. The way this little snatch is clenching me...c’mon, cum for daddy!”

You cried out as your legs almost gave out and you squirted hard, Ransom’s grip on your waist getting tighter as he fucked you through your high and filled you with his own release.

“Atta boy!” Jack called, and if you weren’t so fucked out, you would have laughed.

“I think she agrees,” Ransom responded with a breathy laughed and a smirk to your face.

What a fucking asshole.

“Wanna go back inside and play some more, baby?”

You just nodded.

“Alright, my girl wants to go again, so I’ll see you fucks later!” he called and he was met a crowd of ‘boo’s. “I know, she puts on a hell of a show, doesn’t she?” he laughed as he pulled out.

In almost a blink of an eye, Ransom was lifting you upright, spinning you around, and carrying you back into his bedroom.

“You okay, sweetheart? Was it too much?” he asked as he closed the door and locked it.

Your response was to wrap your arms around him and kiss him like you hadn’t seen him in years.

“I guess not,” he laughed as when you two broke apart.

You both kept each other up for hours that night, and Ransom was so fucking gentle with you after all was said and done. It was almost like he was a completely different person.

“I meant what I said before,” he told you softly as you drifted off to sleep; your head on his chest as he gently stroked your arm.

“Hmm?” you questioned even though you were barely awake.

“I’d do anything to make you happy. I’ll always take care of you.”

“Why can’t you ever answer your damn phone?!” Daisy yells, waking you up from one of your favorite memories, as she runs into the house.

“It’s upstairs,” you answer with a yawn, stretching yourself as much as you can without hurting yourself.

“You should’ve come out tonight!”

“Dais, I am still missing a fucking rib. I don’t feel like going out.”

“You never felt like going out before you were missing a rib,” she scowls as she takes a seat next to you on the couch, “guess who made an appearance tonight!”

“I don’t know, Big Bird?”

“Have you had a drink? You’re more fun when you drink,” she bites, getting up and making her way into the kitchen.

“Daisy!”

“Just have a fucking drink!”

“It’s 1am and I’m on pain meds-”

“The last time you took them was at 7:30. You forget that I stay here, you can have a fucking drink, Y/N.”

“Am I really that terrible?”

“If you’re not crying, you’re yelling. While understandable, you need to feel other emotions besides misery and anger,” she mutters as she makes her way back into the living area with a whiskey neat.

“I’m just-”

“I know, babe. I really do, but you didn’t do this. He did. You wouldn’t have ever slept with Ransom if he would have been as loyal to you as he said he would have. Yeah, I’m not happy that you ended up staying, but you did try and leave. I really can’t stand your fucking parents,” she scowls. “Anyway, guess what happened at the club tonight!”

“You’re way too excited, so...sex?” “Not tonight, I came home early just for you!”

“1am is early?”

“Y/N!”

“Oh my God, what happened?!”

“Ransom beat the shit out of Jack!”

“WHAT?!” you yell, wincing in pain at the force behind it.

“He stormed into the club, in a full fucking rage, sought out Jack, and just started fucking laying into him!” “Fuck! I told him not to!” “I’m sorry, you knew that this was going to happen?!”

“He came by, mad that I wasn’t responding to his text and calls, and he saw me and got furious. I told him not to, but he was just so angry...”

“So, all of this is because Jack beat the shit out of you?”

“He said that I’m his and that Jack can’t do shit like this...God, he was so angry. I’ve heard about his temper, but I’ve never seen it up close.”

“Well...do you wanna see the fight?”

“You recorded it?!”

“Well, I tried FaceTiming you, but you didn’t answer,” she shrugs and you laugh softly. “C’mon, it’ll be fun! I enjoyed it!”

“Dais, I don’t want anyone getting hurt. Especially over me.”

“Babe, I love how genuine you are, but Jack is a piece of shit. He treats you like shit, he’s always making an ass out of himself and embarrassing you, he’s constantly cheating. Even tonight, he was making out with some woman at the bar, but he’s supposed to be trying to win your love back! Him getting his ass beat is what he deserves, I don’t feel bad at all.”

“I just want a fucking divorce!”

“Then get one!” “I can’t force him to sign the fucking papers, Dais. Did you forget the last time?”

“There has to be something...you filed a report, right?”

“No.”

“Y/N!”

“Please don’t, I just don’t wanna deal with the whispers, the stares, my mother...God, my fucking mother,” you scowl.

“Yeah, I’m still going to curse her out the next time I see her.”

“Daisy.”

“No, fuck her! ‘What did you do to provoke him?’ What the fuck is her problem?!”

“She’s a product of her environment. Her mother said the same thing to her the first time my father hit her.”

“You’re far too forgiving and understanding,” Daisy mumbles.

“I made peace with my issues with Jack a while ago. Whatever the hell is going on between Ransom and I...he didn’t need to do that.”

“He cares about you.”

“Dais-”

“You know I’m no great believer in love, but I’ve been telling you for years that his eyes are constantly on you, watching every little thing you do. He defended you that one time-”

“When did he ever defend me?”

“That time Jennie Taggs was making fun of you because your mother made a complete jackass out of herself at your sweet 16. She wouldn’t stop talking about it that following Monday, and Ransom casually asked her how much longer her father is gonna be in prison for money laundering.”

“I completely forgot about that!”

“In your defense, he said it then walked right out of the classroom. I think you had zoned out.”

“No, but I remember Jennie calling me a fucking bitch and you telling me what the hell happened. Okay fine, he watches me a lot and defended me that one time-”

“When have you ever seen him defend anyone? Really think about that question.”

“Dais-”

“He’s a piece of shit, but he’s a piece of shit whose always had a thing for you. He probably never asked you out because you would’ve been smart and said no.”

“That’s what he said,” you mutter before taking a sip of your drink.

“You talked to him about it?!”

“I told you he took me out to dinner-”

“But you didn’t say what was discussed.”

“He wants me to go away with him.”

“Do it.”

“Daisy!”

“What, Y/N? What is so wrong with letting him take you out and spoil you? And don’t you dare fucking say it’s because you’re married.”

“I am married!”

“Your husband beat the shit out of you, Y/N. It’s not exactly a healthy or functioning marriage.”

“Daisy, please-”

“Seeing if there’s something more doesn’t make you a bad person, hun. It would be one thing if Jack were actually good to you and trying to make things work, and you were out being a piece of shit. You have tried everything to try and make this marriage work, and hes gone out of his way to make sure it won’t, and then makes you feel like you’re crazy for not wanting to stay with him. I’m not saying you need to go on this trip and come back married, but for fucks sake, have some fucking fun! He clearly likes you, a lot, and you feel something for him. You don’t laugh like you used to anymore, you rarely leave the house, you’re miserable all the time, you cry constantly, and now this. Just go away with Ransom. You deserve a break.”

“I’ll think about it. I’m gonna go to bed though,” you sigh, finishing the rest of your drink before getting up.

“I have to go home for a few days-”

“Dais, you don’t have to keep staying here. I appreciate you looking out for me and taking care of me-”

“I don’t mind it. I know you’re still scared and you’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you. It’s no problem at all.”

“Daisy-”

“I mean it, Y/N. I don’t mind doing any of this, I love you. It’s not a burden, you’re not being a bother, and I’m happy to do it.”

“You are probably the most selfless person I know.”

“That’s fucking tragic,” she laughs. “Is there anything I can do, babe?”

“Nah, I’m just gonna turn on TV and try and go back to sleep.”

“Please watch a horror movie and pretend that you’re the killer and the person you’re chasing is Jack,” she begs.

“Don’t make me laugh!” you chuckle, feeling pain all over. “I love you,” you tell her softly before dipping down a little and kissing her forehead.

“I love you too, babe. Get some rest.”

The second you’re in your room, you slowly make your way over to your bed and slowly get it, grabbing your phone and contemplate checking in. If Daisy had called you, Ransom had definitely tried to get in touch with you. You settle under your blankets and decide (against your better judgement) to check your phone.

5 texts from Ransom, 6 missed calls from Ransom, 12 missed calls from Babygirl, 6 FaceTimes missed from Babygirl, 3 texts from Babygirl, 10 texts from Piece of Shit.

You completely disregard Jack’s texts (like always), and go right to Daisy’s texts, laughing a little when you see that she sent you the fight along with a text that reads

‘Just in case you change your mind ;)’

Next...Ransom.

Part Time Lover: I saw Daisy at the club tonight, so I know you’re gonna hear all about me beating the shit out of Jack. I know you said not to, but seeing you like that...sweetheart, I couldn’t let it go.

Part Time Lover: We’re back to you ignoring my calls? Great.

Part Time Lover: Babe, just answer the phone and talk to me.

Part Time Lover: Are we really back to this? You’re this mad that I rightfully beat that piece of shit’s ass?

Part Time Lover: I’ll leave it alone for now, but this isn’t done.

You sigh in frustration, because you know you need to leave it alone, but you can’t. After tonight and all hes done, you can’t leave Ransom alone. You’re calling Ransom before you give yourself a fair chance to talk yourself out of it.

The phone barely rings before he answers it.

“Decided to stop being mad at me?” he answers with a slight slur and you sigh.

“I was sleeping. Daisy woke me up when she got home and told me about...”

“You can’t really be mad at me.”

“Ransom, I begged you not to-”

“He put you in the hospital-” “Ransom-”

“I kicked him out, sweetheart. He’s back in with his parents and-”

“Ransom, what do you want from me?”

He’s thoughtful before he says, “ I want you and I to take a trip together.”

“Ransom-”

“It’s not the worst idea, sweetheart. Just say yes. This will give us a chance to really know each other. Well, a chance for you to get to know me.”

“Where would we even go?”

“Where do you wanna go?”

You’re think a bit before saying, “they turn the river green in Chicago soon for St. Patrick’s Day...I’ve always wanted to go and watch...we can go together.”

“Chicago? That’s where you wanna go?”

“Ransom.”

“Okay okay, we’ll go. However, St. Patrick’s is a little more than a month away-”

“I still need to heal, babe.”

“I want to see you before then.”

You sigh before admitting, “Dais just told me she needs to go back to her house for a few days...I guess it wouldn’t be so bad if you stayed here.”

“You don’t have to sound so fucking miserable about it.”

“I don’t know what it is that you want from me, and I’m trying...I am married at the end of the day, and this is wrong. All of this is so wrong on everyone’s end-”

“God, you’re so fucking pure it’s painful.”

“Ransom, stop it.”

“I’ll stay over, okay?”

“No, never mind. Maybe-”

“I don’t want you to be alone.”

“Why?”

“I like you a lot more than I should. I always have, like I told you. Seeing what you’ve had to put up with...I’d feel better if you weren’t alone.”

“Ransom-”

“Just say yes,” he begs softly, again.

Your heart is answering before your brain has a chance to register, “o..okay. Only a few days.”

“That’s more than good enough for me.”

“Don’t start.”

“What time should I come over?”

“Whenever you’ve slept off the alcohol.”

“Y/N.”

“I guess in the afternoon? I don’t know. It’s not like this is the best idea.”

“We’re not doing anything wrong.”

“It’s not like we’re doing anything right.”

“If you really want me to back off, I will.”

“I don’t know what I want, Ransom! That’s the problem!”

“Yes you do, you just don’t wanna say it.”

“Ransom-”

“Just sleep. We both need sleep. I’ll see you in a bit, okay?”

“Fine.”

“Don’t be fucking mad.”

“Goodnight, Ransom.”

“Night,” he mutters before hanging up.

It’s not lost on you that hes only told you he put Jack out because he wants you to come over, but what the fuck are you supposed to do? Your body starts hurting at the thought of leaving the house, so driving is so far out of your mind right now.

Also, what the fuck?!

You’re supposed to just go over because he beat up your husband (which begged him not to do)? It’s a love letter you never fucking asked for and you, quite honestly, don’t need. If anything, it makes everything more complicated and annoying, because you know for a fact that he’s gonna tell his parents what happened and they’ll talk to your parents. The whole thing is a fucking nightmare and you wish you hadn’t told Ransom to come over or that you’ll go away with him.

Not enough to take it back though.

You and Ransom have been fucking around for a little over a year now, and he’s only now telling you that hes always had a thing for you. You don’t know if this is all just a mind fuck or not, but you know that when you’re with him, you’re happy. If anything, tonight shows you that he has to at least give a bit of a fuck about you. Yes, it’s always been sex, but with how much he’s trying to keep you to himself now...can he really be all that bad?

Letting out a frustrated groan, you settle under the covers and turn on the TV, deciding that ‘Empire Records’ is good enough background noise to drift off to.

As you slowly succumb to the darkness of unconsciousness, your mind can’t stop focusing on one person and all of the things he makes you feel.

Hugh Ransom Drysdale.

**

“No,” you groan as your phone goes off for what you’re assuming to be the hundredth time.

You heard it in your sleep, but had absolutely no desire to answer it.

You mindlessly grab your phone, eyes still closed, and answer, “hmm?”

“Since when do you sleep like the dead?” Ransom questions.

Your eyes shoot open.

“It was a long night. What’s up?”

“I’m here.”

“What? Why? It’s still early-”

“It’s 1:30, babe. Are you okay?”

“I’m just...just tired,” you yawn as you sit up, “I’ll be down in a minute.”

There’s no sense in trying to get yourself together, since he’s already seen you when you first wake up and as you are now. You toe on your slippers and make your way downstairs as quick as you can, stopping in the kitchen first to take your pills before making your way to the front door.

“You okay?”

“You can’t park there, Ransom,” you mumble, seeing his car parked on the cobblestone driveway. “He comes by sometimes and the last thing I need is for you two to have it out again. I’ll open the garage for you.”

“Sweetheart-”

“We’ll talk once you’re inside.”

You close the door and make your way to the basement, hitting the switch that slide the doors up and wait for him to pull in.

You can still tell him no. You’ve already kicked your husband out and he actually lives there, you can definitely change your mind and tell Ransom to go home. There’s no reason for him to stay, because there’s no way for Jack to get in unless he breaks in, but there’s a security system set in place (at Jack’s demand) so there’s nothing to worry about. You can easily tell Ransom never mind and to go home.

But you don’t want to.

You can chalk it up to you being lonely and vulnerable, but you know that Daisy made a good point. You’re not in some loving wonderful marriage and you deserve to at least see if there’s anything real between you and Ransom before you dive back into hell by trying to get another divorce.

“What’s going on with you?” Ransom asks, pulling you out of your thoughts as he gets out of his car, duffle bag in hand.

“It’s just been a rough couple of weeks. I’m mentally exhausted, my body hurts...I’m dealing with everything. Trying to figure everything out.”

“You don’t ever sleep this late.”

“Like I said, it’s been a rough couple of weeks,” you mutter, stepping aside to let him in.

He sighs as he makes his way in and follows your lead,“do you really not want me here?”

“I told you last night: I don’t know what I want.”

“I miss you, Y/N.”

“That’s why you fucked Daisy?”

“That and I was fucking mad at you.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“At least I didn’t beat the shit out of you.” “I’m sorry, do you want to go home.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he mutters as he drops his duffle bag. “I really did miss you.”

“I missed you too, Ransom.”

“Not just fucking you, Y/N. I missed you. Seeing what he did to you...why you were so desperate for me to keep him at my house...I know you asked me not to but, I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop it.”

“I’m not yours to worry about, Ransom.”

“Yes you are.”

“Don’t. Don’t act like we’ve always been meant to be and I’m missing the point. You never said anything and now I’m supposed to just trust you?”

“Have I ever given you a reason not to?”

“YOU FUCKED DAISY!”

“Besides that!”

“Of course you’d say,” you laugh humorlessly, “I don’t even know you, Ransom.”

“Yet, you still want me here.”

“Cause I miss you, Ransom. I don’t know why, but I do.”

“Because I make you happy and I make you feel good.”

“That’s not enough for a relationship. It doesn’t help that I trust you less now than I did before.”

“We can work on that,” he promises softly as closes the small distance between the two of you. “If you want me to go-”

“I want...I want you to stay. I don’t want to be alone and I miss you.”

“He’s not gonna hurt you again, sweetheart.”

“I don’t wanna think about it right now. It’s always on my mind and-”

“Tell me what you wanna do.”

“I just wanna feel okay. For once, I want to be okay.”

“Let me help with that,” he mumbles before cupping your face and kissing you deeply.

It’s funny how quickly you forgot how soul stealing his kisses are.

“Ransom,” you breathe once you two break apart, “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“My body still hurts.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” he growls and you laugh softly.

“Let me show you around.”

He picks up his bag before following you up the steps, and without even facing him, you can tell that he’s staring directly at your ass.

Men.

Initially, you told yourself that Ransom would sleep in one of the guest rooms, but now that he’s here (and has kissed the hell out of you), you make the dangerous decision to let him sleep in the same bed as you. The moment you open the bedroom door, he throws his bag down and gently pushes you against the wall.

Yeah, the guest room isn’t gonna work for you.

“Ransom, I just told you that I can’t,” you moan, barely making an attempt to push him off of you as he kisses down your body.

“We don’t have to do that, but there are other things we can do. Other things things that’ll make you feel better,” he husks, getting on his knees and lifting up the shirt you’re wearing. “When’s the last time you had an orgasm, sweetheart?”

“The last time I saw you,” you whimper, gripping his hair. “Ransom...oh fuck!” you mewl as he licks your clit. “You don’t have to-” “I want to. God, you don’t know how fucking bad I’ve missed this pretty little cunt, baby,” he growls before diving in.

As you lean against the wall while Ransom eats you out (like he hasn’t touched a woman in years), you think about what any of this means. What you want it to mean. Ransom has started to mean more to you than you ever thought he would, but what the fuck are you supposed to do with that? What the fuck are you supposed to do with him?

One thing is certain: Hugh Ransom Drysdale is now a major part of your life.

**

“Where you going?” Jack asks again as you pack your bags.

“On a business trip,” you lie with a frustrated scowl.

In the time its taken for you to convince yourself that a trip with Ransom is the right choice, a lot has happened. In all honesty, you know that you shouldn’t go with him, but you’re addicted him at this point. Since he stayed over for those few days, Ransom really has tried his best to show you that he means every thing he says and will go to every length to show you that.

“What do you even do again?”

“Jack, we’ve been together for over four years, you should know this already.”

“I know, I’m sorry, I’m just-”

“Marketing design, I’m in control of marketing design.”

“Since when do you start taking trips?”

“There was an offer and I-”

“We’re trying to work on-”

“No, you’re trying to work on this marriage, I’m just existing at this point. I told you I want a divorce and you refuse to just sign the papers.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so fucking sorry-”

“Sending your Mommy to talk me because I wouldn’t talk to you? Real fucking great-”

“I didn’t send her-”

“You didn’t fucking tell her to stay out of it either!”

In the middle of day two of Ransom staying with you, Jack’s mom showed up to plead her son’s case.

“Just be quiet and stay here,” you giggled, trying to get out of Ransom’s hold.

“Ignore her.”

“She’s my mother-in-law. I can’t just ignore her.”

“It’s your house, you can do whatever you want.”

“Ransom-” “You have work to do anyway.”

“You’re a selfish man.”

“Yes, I truly am, so just stay here with me,” he begged as he kissed your shoulder.

“Ransom.”

“It’s annoying. Being with someone who doesn’t do exactly what you say is pretty fucking annoying.”

“Go cry to Jack about it.”

“Can you fuck yet?”

“Ransom!”

“Fine, go and spend time with the wicked bitch. I’ll stay here,” he scowled.

“Give me a kiss.”

“Why should I?”

“Because you like me so much,” you smirked and he scoffed.

“Spoiled little shit,” he smiled before cupping your face and kissing you deeply. “Hurry back,” he husked after you two broke apart.

What the hell did you get yourself into?

You were reluctant to get up, but nonetheless got up and pulled on a pair of sweatpants and made your way. You took a deep breath and mentally prepared yourself before opening the door.

“Oh sweetheart,” Jack’s Mother sighed the second you opened the door.

“Why don’t you come inside?” you offered, stepping aside and letting her in before softly closing the door behind her.

You knew it was going to be a shit show, but God did you underestimate how much. You poured the both of you a drink before you joined her at the kitchen table; you sitting across from her. You set the bottle of whiskey in the middle and just smiled at her.

You’re both quiet for at least five minutes before she said, “he’s so incredibly sorry.”

“Tell that to my broken rib.���

“He was out of control. He said he’s gonna get help-”

“Margret, I know you’re his mother, but you know it’s bullshit.”

“He wants to change-”

“And how many times did David tell you the same thing?”

“Y/N.”

“I’m not trying to be a bitch, but you can see me, can’t you? You see what I look like? You know that I’ve barely left the house in the house in two weeks? I’ve been working from home-”

“Quitting would help solve-”

“Why should I give up my career? I went to college and worked my ass off for a reason. I should quit because your son is sensitive? I quit and then what? I wait around for him to come back home from cheating on me?”

“He said that he’s never-”

“You don’t believe that. I know you don’t believe it.”

“Level with me here, Y/N,” she sighed. “You know how these things go-”

“I’m not a fucking business transaction, Margret. The person he sold me on and the person he is now are two different fucking people. I don’t love him anymore-”

“It won’t always be-”

“He beat me up, Margret! I don’t want to wait for him to be the person he promised me he’d be on our wedding day!”

“You think you’re special? You think every woman in this county wasn’t promised the perfect life? You don’t think we’ve all had our fair share of bruises? Your Mother? This is what comes with the life-”

“No, it comes with your life because you allow it. I don’t want this for myself!”

“Why can’t you just let it go? He’s sorry! Clearly, Ransom is taking care of you-”

“What does that mean?”

“Jack told me that he got into a fight with Ransom before he kicked him out. I can’t help but think-”

“Well try to,” you snapped before you grabbed your glass and finished off your drink. “Ransom and Jack have their own relationship. I haven’t spoken to Jack since that night, so I don’t know what the hell happened.”

“Everyone knows that boy has a thing for you, don’t act like-”

“Hes never said two words to me. Even at the wedding, where he was Jack’s best man, he didn’t say a thing to me. So, whatever the hell is going on between them has nothing to do with me.”

“I’m not going to tell him, honey. Everyone has their fun on the side-”

“Do you not hear how fucked up all of this sounds? I don’t want any part of this!”

“It’s all apart of the game, honey. They commit their sins and we’re here for their repentance.”

“Maybe for you, but it’s not what I want for me.”

“Y/N-”

“I want a fucking divorce, Margret. He can have whatever he wants, I don’t care, I just want out. The cheating was one thing, but if he’s hellbent on turning out like his father, I want no part in any of this anymore. I don’t want to keep up the act.”

“You need to understand how easy you have it.”

“You need to understand that I don’t want to be married to your son anymore.”

“So, you’re willing to throw it all away?”

“There’s nothing to throw away in the first damn place.”

“I’ll reach out to you soon,” she huffed before finishing her drink and getting up. “I know you two can work this out.”

With that, she walked out (slamming the door shut), and you were left to your own devices. As you poured yourself another drink, you heard her rev her engine before she peeled out of your driveway.

You threw her glass into the recycle bin before grabbing another for Ransom, filling it then your own, before you closed the bottle and made your way back upstairs.

“That didn’t sound pleasant at all,” he scoffed once you were back in the bedroom, putting down your glass and the bottle on your nightstand.

“How bad do you wanna fuck me?” you asked, handing him his drink before you got on the bed and straddled him.

“Real fucking bad, but I don’t want to-”

“I don’t give a fuck that it hurts, Ransom. I want you to fuck me like you want to. Fuck me like I’m your little play toy.”

“Sweetheart-”

“Do you want me?”

“Just because I want you doesn’t mean I want to hurt you.”

“I want it, Ransom. I want you,” you moaned as you grind yourself against him.

“What happened, sweetheart?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it. I just want you.”

“Then have me.”

While doing his best to be gentle that afternoon, he took his time pulling you apart over and over again. Yes, it was painful, but the pleasure was so strong that you didn’t give a fuck. He was so gentle with you after and it only made your heart desire him that much more. He really had no reason to try and lie, but he truly wanted to show you that he was all in.

He wanted you to understand just how much he cared.

The next morning, he made you breakfast in bed, which resulted in more sex.

Then your parents came over.

“You don’t have to answer them, babe. It’s your house,” Ransom sighed as you got dressed.

“You think they’ll just go away? If I don’t answer, they’ll just call. They’ll call until I answer and then, they’ll demand that I let them in.”

“Y/N, you don’t have to do what everyone-”

“Don’t Ransom. Just don’t. You and I aren’t the same and you wouldn’t understand.”

“Do you want to talk to them?”

“It’s pretty obvious that I don’t.”

“Then don’t fucking do it. You’re far too kind to people that don’t deserve it.”

“Well, if I lived by that motto, you wouldn’t be in my bed, would you?”

“That’s not fair.”

“I have to talk to them,” you chuckled before grabbing one of his cigarettes and his lighter, “I’ll try to not keep you waiting too long.”

“You better not. Give me a kiss.”

“Spoiled little shit,” you giggled before you dipped down to kiss him.

You pulled on one of the many sweaters he sent you home in before you made your way downstairs and getting ready for one of the dumbest talks you’d ever have.

“You can’t keep this up, Y/N,” your Mother sighed once you opened the door; your Father just staring at his feet.

“Keep what up?” you asked, placing the cigarette between your lips and lighting it.

“When did you start smoking?”

“A year ago. Come inside, we’ll go to the back deck.”

“It’s not good for you,” your Mother snapped as she gently pushed her way past you, your Father following her but still not looking at you.

“Not many things are these days,” you shrugged as you led them to the backyard, “why are you here?”

“We spoke to Margret-”

“Oh did you now?”

“Y/N, we know that Daisy’s been staying here. Keep it up and people are going to think that you’ve started some sort of relationship with her.”

“I should be so lucky. She’s gorgeous.”

“That’s not funny!”

“Who says I was joking? Did you hear me laugh?”

“You want the people in this county to think-”

“Honestly, who give a fuck? Who gives a fuck what anyone thinks?”

“I don’t care for your choice of language!” your Mother snapped.

“I don’t give a fuck what you care for,” you snapped as you all sat down in the extravagant sitting area that adorned the backyard patio. “You’re at my house about to ask me for the worst thing a parent-”

“Y/N, please. I know...They’re things that are expected-” your father started.

“You’re gonna ask me to take him back, but you still can’t look at me?” you interrupted him before you settled back into your chair and took a drag from your cigarette.

“Sweet Pea-”

“If you’re gonna speak to me, fucking look at me,” you snapped at your Father. “What? Am I that ugly, or do I remind you too much of how Mom looked after you would discipline her?”

“Y/N!” your Mother snapped.

“I know what we’re asking for...what we’ve been asking for isn’t fair,” your Father sighed be he lit his own cigarette, “but you’ve already married the boy. We’re not asking you to faithful, you and Ransom-”

“WHY DOES EVERYONE KEEP BRINGING UP RANSOM?!”

“You haven’t seen Jack, but we have and Ransom didn’t give an explanation as to why he fought him-”

“So, it’s automatically got to be because of me? I’ve just gotta be fucking him for him to be mad at Jack?”

“Don’t make me out to be a fool, Y/N. I know we’ve made your life miserable, but-”

“Exactly. You’ve already asked too fucking much of me and I’m tired. I am so damn tired.”

“Just take the boy back-”

“I don’t want to! I just want a divorce and to be left the hell alone!”

“You won’t get any peace for at least two years, Y/N,” your Mother sighed, leaning back into her chair. “The family name-”

“The family name, the family name, THE FAMILY FUCKING NAME!” you screamed and she rolled her eyes.

“No one knows what happened, no one knows that you kicked him out, and no one know that he...”

“That he fucking beat me? He fucking beat me, Mom. He pinned me down and beat the shit out of me. That’s what fucking happened. That’s what you’re asking me to go back to.”

“Y/N, the family name doesn’t need to wrapped in another scandal,” she sobbed.

“I just want a fucking divorce!”

“It will be everywhere! Your Father is about to retire and he’s had an amazing career! Your divorce from Jack-”

“Do you hear how selfish you sound?!”

“Yes, and I’m sorry, but this isn’t about just you. You may have Jack’s last name, but you carry the family name-”

“How much longer do I have to put up with this?”

“Y/N, just take the money and have fun,” your Father sighed. “Linda Drysdale is still married to Richard, isn’t she? He cheated, she gave him a black eye, and they’re fine now!”

“So, that’s supposed to be my life now?”

“It could be a lot worse,” your Mother sniffed as you ashed your cigarette.

“Do you two even love each other?”

“Love is a complicated thing, sweetheart,” she muttered, looking away from you and turning her attention to your garden. “Your roses look like they’ll come in nice this year.”

“They’ll be the only thing,” you practically whispered as you looked up to your bedroom window, knowing the window is open and Ransom heard everything.

Fuck.

“So, you’re just gonna take him back? Because your parents asked nicely?” Ransom asked as soon as you got back into the bedroom.

“Please don’t-”

“Baby-”

“It’s what’s expected of me, Ransom. What do you want me to do?”

“Whatever the fuck makes you happy!”

“I’m not you! I can’t just-”

“You can do whatever the fuck makes you happy! You can do whatever the fuck you want!”

“Why does it matter so much to you?!”

“BECAUSE WE SHOULD BE TOGETHER!”

“THEN MAYBE YOU SHOULD’VE SAID SOMETHING AT THE WEDDING YOU WERE ALL TOO HAPPY TO BE APART OF!” you yelled, instantly regretting it once you feel the pain in your ribs. “Goddammit!”

“Are you okay?” he questioned, making his way to your side almost instantly.

“Jesus, why do you have to go and prove them all wrong?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Why are you so fucking sweet and kind to me?”

“I already told you,” he smirked as he helped you over to the bed, “I like you a lot more than I should.”

It’s not lost on you that Ransom is someone you shouldn’t trust, but he just makes you so damn happy, to the point that he makes you feel like this is something you should try. Do you love the man? No the fuck you don’t. Do you like him more than you should?

Obviously.

Jack lets out a frustrated sigh as he runs his hand through his hair, “I can go with you.”

“That would imply that I want you to come at all.”

“I want to fix this.”

“There’s nothing to fix, Jack. I don’t want you or this marriage anymore, and you won’t give me what I want-”

“If my parents can make it work, so can we!”

“Does no one fucking listen to me when I talk? I DON’T WANT TO BE MARRIED TO YOU ANYMORE! I DON’T LOVE YOU ANYMORE!”

“In time-”

“I’ve gotta go or I’ll miss my flight,” you interrupt, grabbing your suitcase and starting out of the room.

“Y/N, is there someone else?”

“What would it matter if there was?”

“We can’t work this out if you’re with-”

“I’m gonna stop you there,” you laugh, “I’ll see you in a week. Try not to burn down the fucking house during one of your drug fueled binges, and whatever girls you bring back, make sure they take all their clothes with them when they leave.”

“You weren’t always this fucking cruel.”

“And you weren’t always a pile of shit. Well, maybe you were, I was just to naive to see it.”

“Y/N-” “Bye.”

You practically speed to the airport, and you know there’s no need to, but you just need to get the fuck out of Massachusetts for a while. That, and you’re anxious to see Ransom. You don’t like the way you two left things and you want to smooth things over.

You also want to figure out what the hell you’re doing.

“I already heard it from Daisy, I don’t need to hear it from you too,” you sighed as Ransom made his way back into the bedroom from the connecting bathroom.

“So, that’s it? You’re just gonna go back to him?”

“Ransom, please!”

“You have a fucking choice!”

“You? Leave him and be with you?”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing!”

“I don’t fucking know you well enough-”

“Whose fucking fault is that?! We’ve been in the same house for four days! I keep telling you that I’m an open book to you and you refuse-”

“I’m married, Ransom!”

“You’re marriage is pretty fucking shit, and you keep hiding behind that for what? To make Mommy and Daddy happy?”

“Oh, fuck off!”

“Stop doing what they want you to!”

“Be like you and don’t give a fuck about anyone’s feelings?”

“I give a fuck about yours for whatever reason!”

“No one ever fucking told you to!”

“So this is done?”

“What even is this?!”

“You tell me!”

“Ransom, I swear to God!”

“You don’t even want to be with him, Y/N! You don’t want him like you want me, you don’t crave him like you crave me, and you damn sure don’t care for him like you care for me.”

“Stop it!”

“What? You’re gonna play house with him and keep fucking me on the side? Gonna keep wanting me, but not actually committing to me?!”

“You don’t even want to commit to anyone! Look at that fucking ring on your pinky!”

“Fuck this ring!” he yelled, taking it off and throwing it across the room. “I want to commit to you!”

“Stop it, Ransom. Just fucking stop it! I’m not some fucking toy-” “Then stop fucking playing around!” he shouted.

“You need to go,” you sniffled as you dried your eyes. “I have to call Jack and tell him-”

“That you’ll continue to fucking pretend. Yeah, fucking got it.”

“Ransom-” “Fuck you. Fuck all of this. I’m done,” he spat before storming out.

The first real fight you two ever had, and it was all because you couldn’t find the courage to stand up for yourself. Yes, he was right, but what the fuck are you supposed to do? Since you were born, your family has drilled it into your head that it’s up to you to make the family look good. You’re the only child your parents had, so you have to be perfect. Always be polite, stay on top of your grades, get into the best schools, be the best at sports, be the best debater....you have to be perfect. With Jack, you genuinely thought you got lucky because he acted like he actually wanted to be with you. He made you believe that your marriage would be what you’d always wanted.

With Ransom...it’s been complicated since he kissed you. Hes never shied away from the fact that he’s an asshole. Maybe that’s why you should trust him. No, none of this is ideal, but at least hes always been up front with you (as far as you know). Yeah, he fucked Daisy, but he didn’t lie about it and he told you that he knew he was wrong. He beat up your husband because he beat you up, and then was so fucking gentle with you; both physically and emotionally. Ransom has his faults, but it’s not lost on you that his feelings for you are genuine.

Which is probably why he text you a week after your argument.

Part Time Lover: March 12th to the 20th , we’ll be in Chicago. I booked us a suite at the Eurostars Magnificent Mile. I’ll see you there.

Y/N: How much do I owe you?

Part Time Lover: It’s on me.

Y/N: You don’t have to pay for this whole thing.

Part Time Lover: It was my idea for us to go away together, I should be the one to pay for it.

Y/N: I hurt you, it’s the least I can do.

Part Time Lover: I’m tougher than you think.

Y/N: I’m sorry, Ransom.

Part Time Lover: I’ll see you in Chicago.

And you haven’t spoken to him since. What are you even supposed to say?

‘Sorry for not being strong enough to leave my husband and jump into bed with you more often’?

You have no reason to commit to Ransom, but you want one so fucking bad. Being with Ransom makes you feel like you can finally breathe, and being without him feels like hell. You don’t exactly know when Ransom started meaning so much to you, but now he seems to be all that you think about.

As you board the plane, you try to empty your mind. You try and empty your mind. You have no expectations, you just want to have fun and be someone else for a while.

You just want to be with Ransom.

**

“Ransom, what did you do?” you ask on the phone as you make your way to elevator.

“I want us to have a good time, so I made sure we would.”

“Ransom-”

“Are you here?”

“I’m in the elevator now.”

“Good, get your ass up here.”

“Ransom-”

“Top floor, the nicest suite, get up here. I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” you sigh with a small smile as you watch the numbers on the elevator go up and up. “You didn’t have to do all of-”

“Yes I did. I wanted to. You deserve the best and I’m gonna give it to you.”

“I don’t deserve all of this, Ransom,” you mutter as the elevator reaches the top floor.

“You deserve all of this and more.”

“I’m on our floor. I’ll see you-”

“I see you. Get your ass over here now,” he demands, but you can hear the smile in his voice.

You hang up before practically running to the room where you see his head poking out.

“Lets not argue ever again,” he laughs once you reach the suite.

“I like that a lot.”

“I missed you, Y/N.”

“I missed you too, Ransom....I’m sorry that all of this is such a shit show.”

“How was your flight?” he asks, stepping aside to let you in.

“Ransom, we should really talk about...holy shit,” you gasp as you take a look around. “What did you...”

“I don’t want to think about everything that went wrong. I missed you and you missed me so, lets just enjoy this.”

“Babe...you didn’t have to...this is so much.”

“Do you like it?” he asks softly, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“I love it.”

“Good,” he comments before kissing the shell of your ear. “Room service is on call 24/7, the river is right there,” he points to the window in the living area, “so we can watch them dye the river from here or we can go down there, I’ve found a million things for us to do-”

“Ransom, you didn’t have to do all of this.”

“Yes I did. You deserve everything and I want you to have it.”

“Ransom-”

“I’ll make us drinks, you look around,” he urges before letting go of you and making his way into the kitchen.

It’s like an apartment for the two of you. There’s a living area, a work space, the bathroom is gorgeous, the kitchen is unbelievable, and the bedroom is amazing. You park your suitcase by the doorway of the bedroom and make your way out onto the balcony and look over the city.

The fact that Ransom did all of this for you really has your mind blown.

“Do you like it?” Ransom asks as he comes outside, handing your drink and standing behind you.

“Ransom, this is amazing...I can’t believe you did all of this...”

“I did it for us.”

“Ransom-”

“It’s fine if you don’t wanna admit that there’s something between us, but I fucking know better, Y/N. You’re here, without much convincing, you’re happy, and you clearly don’t feel guilty about being here.”

“I just...”

“For now, just don’t think. Be here with me and be happy. I can make you so fucking happy if you’ll let me.” “You already make me happy, daddy,” you tell him seductively as turn around and face him.

“Yeah? I make my pretty girl happy?”

“Do you want me to show you just how happy you made me?” you ask, getting on your knees and undoing his pants.

“You don’t care that anyone can see you?”

“Do you care?”

“You know I’ll fuck you anywhere without hesitation.”

“Then you should let me show everyone just how happy you make me, daddy,” you moan, stroking him just a bit, “let me show you,” you beg before taking him into your mouth.

“Jesus sweetheart!” he grunts as he grips your hair. “Just can’t be a good girl anywhere I take you, huh? Fuck, suck it just like that, baby!” he moans, guiding you just a bit. “Bet you missed daddy’s cock so much, huh? Shit! Missed being so full?”

You moan in response as you pick up your pace, trying to hold off your own release.

“Shit, get up, baby! Let daddy make you feel good!” he grunts, gripping your hair tight as a way of getting you to stop.

“Wanna taste you!” you whimper, getting up only for Ransom to force you against the guard rail and push your dress up.

“We have more than enough time for that, sweetheart. Right now, daddy just wants to feel you,”  he demands as you groan, before he thrusts himself inside of you.

“FUCK!”

“Missed this tight little honeypot,” he broods as he fucks into you relentlessly.

“Oh my GOD! Please!”

“Feel good, baby? Missed daddy’s cock?”

“Oh my...yes, YES! Got off...Fuck Ransom!”

“Ya know, I think all of Chicago should see these tits too, don’t you?”

“Do whatever...oh fuck! I’m so close!” you moan as he rips the front on your dress. “Daddy!”

“You’re so fucking desperate for me, aren’t you?”

“Daddy...I need to...please!”

“Fucking say it!”

“I...I want...I want you all the time, Ransom! Jesus, I’m gonna fucking...please!”

“That desperate to cum, sweetheart?”

“I’ll do anything, just please let me cum!”

“My sweet little whore, make a a mess, baby!” he chuckles, playing with clit as he bites down on your shoulder.

“FUCK!” you scream, squirting hard and making a mess as he rides out your high.

“And to think, we’re just getting started,” he laughs, never missing a beat as he fucks into you like you just didn’t have a mind shattering orgasm.

Ransom keeps you on that balcony for at least an hour, before finally pulling you back into the bedroom; deciding that it would be kind to demolish you in private.

“Daddy, PLEASE!”

“Can’t take anymore, sweetheart?”

“Need to feel you! Mi...missed you so much!”

“Fuck! Give it to me! Give all of it”

“FUCK!” you scream out, squirting hard as you do your best to stay up right.

“Shit, sweetheart!” Ransom growls as he fills you to the brim, moaning as he pulls out and watches both of your releases spill out. “You’re amazing, baby.”

“You didn’t have to...you didn’t have to show me....,” you breathe, trying to form an actual thought as you collapse onto the bed.

No one will ever be able to make you as happy and full as he does.

“Are you happy?” he chuckles as he gets in next to you and pulls the cover over the both of you.

“Mhm” you mumble, resting your head on his chest and wrapping an arm around his waist. “We should go eat.”

“Rest for now, we’ll eat after.”

“You must be hungry,” you yawn, trying your best to stay awake.

“When you get up. Sleep.”

“Thank you, Ransom. For all of this.”

“I’d do anything for you, sweetheart,” he promises softly before pressing a soft kiss into your hair. “Anything.”

Ransom’s P.O.V

“Your mommy pick out your shoes for you, Drysdale?” Tommy asked as he approached me on the playground.

“Leave me alone.”

“Gonna cry again? Gonna have your grandpa talk to my parents?”

“Leave me alone!”

“Cause you’re parents don’t-”

“He said to leave him alone, Tommy!” you shouted, hands on your hips and a scowl on your face.

Is it sad that I can still remember what you wore that day?

Your hair was in pigtails, you had on your blue dress with white polka dots, you had on black church shoes, and a white stockings.

I’d had a crush on you since the first time I saw, but I thought you looked especially cute that day.

“Stay outta this, Y/N!”

“Leave him alone, Tommy! You’re a big mean jerk, and Ransom hasn’t done anything to you!”

“You like him so much, why don’t you marry him?”

“Leave him alone or I’ll tell Miss Hendricks on you!”

“Tattletale! Whatever, both of you are stupid anyway!”

And with that, Tommy Smotts stormed off.

“Are you okay?” you asked softly, coming over to me in the sandbox.

I did the only thing I could think of: run off.

In my defense, you’re the one who came out of nowhere and actually spoke to me. Sure, we stared at each other a bunch, but neither of us actually ever said a fucking word to each other.

Why did I wait so fucking long to act on anything with you? No, I don’t chase anyone, ever, but you...you’ve always been the one I’ve wanted. Since that day you defended me, I’ve never been able to get you out of my head. I guess I always thought I had time, because you never seemed to talk to anyone besides Daisy. I always caught you looking at me, I could always feel you staring at me, so I just assumed I had time. I wanted to have my fun before approaching you, because I wanted to get it right. I don’t know what fucking hold you had over me (and still do), but I’ve only ever wanted to do right by you.

Then he took you.

“You get every woman you want, leave some for the rest of us,” Jack scoffed as we stood in my parent’s backyard, attending their party out of nothing other than obligation.

“Not every woman,” I slurred, looking over in your direction.

Maybe it was my fault. I still hadn’t said a fucking word to you, and Jack had no clue that I felt anything towards you, because I never talked about it, but God. You looked so fucking good that night. You always wore the most modest clothes, but you made them look so damn good. You always make everything look so damn good.

“Y/N?,” Jack scoffed incredulously before he took another sip of his drink. “What the fuck is so special about her? Yeah, she’s cute, but she doesn’t actually say anything, she dresses like a fucking nun-”

“Exactly; she’s different,” I snapped defensively.

You were mine, mentally, and I wasn’t about to let him talk shit about you.

“Oh Drysdale, you’ve got it bad.”

“Got what?”

“You’re in love with her!”

“I don’t even know her,” I muttered, lighting my cigarette.

A bold fucking lie.

“Then why so pushy?”

“I’m not being pushy about anything, I just don’t see the need to talk shit when she’s the only good one out of the bunch.”

“I can get her,” he chuckled as he looked you over.

“Yeah, okay.”

“What?”

“You’re a piece of shit, Jack. She’s never gonna fall for you.”

“I can be quite charming when I need to be.”

“Yeah sure.”

“Ransom, I bet you $10,000 that I can get her to say yes to a date with me.”

“You’re on,” I smirked, shaking his hand before taking another drag from my cigarette.

I never thought you’d actually fall for his shit, because you’re so much smarter than that. However, I’ve gotta give it to Jack, he’s a suave piece of shit when he wants to be.

It was only supposed to be one date though.

I could take losing the fucking money, but actually losing you?

“What the fuck are you doing?!” I snapped, pulling Jack into your parents’ kitchen.

“What are you talking about?!”

“It was supposed to be one fucking date! It’s been two fucking months!”

“What can I say? I like the girl,” he shrugged with a smug smirk.

“Jack, I swear to God-”

“You said you don’t love her, so what’s the big deal?”

“Fuck you,” I spat before storming out.

Before I knew it, you were fucking married to him. It only took that little fuck three months to fucking cheat on you, but he played the part of a loving husband well enough, until he couldn’t anymore.

You start to stir and I realize my phone is going off.

“Sleep,” I urge softly, kissing the top of your head before gently getting out of bed.

Throwing on my boxer briefs and a sweater, I grab my phone and my pack of cigarettes before stepping out onto the balcony.

“What?”

“Don’t fucking ‘what’ me!” Jack snaps and I laugh.

“Sound a little unhinged there, buddy.”

“Fuck you, Ransom! Is she with you?!”

“She who?” I chuckle, lighting a smoke.

“Don’t fucking play with me, Ransom!”

“Are you referring to your darling little wife?”

“You know damn well that I am!”

“Now, why would I know of her whereabouts?” I question, looking at you through the sliding glass door.

You have got to be the most beautiful fucking woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.

“This wasn’t part of our-”

“One, I don’t know where your wife is. Two, I’m not breaking anything that we agreed upon.”

“She’s mine, Ransom.”

“Maybe you don’t have the tight little hold on her that you thought you did.”

“We had an agreement!”

“No, we made a bet. Don’t get mad at me because you’re losing it. Maybe, if you didn’t fucking slap her around, you wouldn’t be so fucking worried!”

“That was one time and I feel awful-”

“Finding out that you turned into your parents does fucking suck, doesn’t it?”

“I’m nothing like my father!”

“Lets see: you cheat on your wife, you live off your wife, and you beat your wife. Sounds an awful lot like you turned out like your father.”

“Watch it, Drysdale,” he growls.

“Are you warning me?” I laugh. “I got away with one murder, so I’m not too fucking worried about you.”

“Back off!”

“Ahh, what’s the fun in that? The deadline is her birthday, isn’t it?”

“Ransom-”

“Fuck off, Jack. You wanna keep your wife? Fucking work for her then,” I bite before hanging up.

Yes, another bet was made in a vain attempt to get your love, but if I can make money and have you, why wouldn’t I? I’m going to tell you. I’m going to tell you everything, I just need to find the right time. After you get to know me a little more, which is tricky in its own way, I’ll explain everything.

I know no one would ever believe me, but I’d never fucking hurt you. I’ve never loved anyone, but I’m so fucking in love with you. I always have been. Hopefully, after this trip, you’re able to see that. I know I’ve fucked up and fucked around my whole life, but I just wanna get things right with you.

I just need you to give me a chance.

Y/N’s P.O.V

“Tell me something true,” you smile at Ransom as your second round of drinks arrive.

You ended up sleeping much longer than you intended to, and by the time you finally did wake up, it was time for dinner. Ransom was sweet, still making jokes at your expense, but told you that he had planned everything out. Which is why you’re now sitting at a five star restaurant, drinking more than you should and feeling happier than you ever have.

“You’re the best fuck I’ve ever had,” Ransom smirks and you burst out laughing.

“I’m serious! Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Well, there’s a lot,” he laughs with a shrug, “something you don’t know...I hate spiders and I hate centipedes.”

“Ransom Drysdale hates bugs?!”

“Don’t get so excited, I’ll stomp those fuckers out in a second,” he mutters and laugh again. “I know what you really wanna ask me though, so you may as well ask it.”

“Ransom-”

“I’m a big boy, I can take it.”

“Did you have something to do with Harlan’s death?”

“Technically? No. Fran? Yes. With Harlan, that just worked out in my favor. I could already tell that he was getting fed up with everyone, so I pretended to take an interest in Marta. He seemed to want her company and attention more than anyone else’s, so it didn’t take long for me to connect the dots. I wine and dined her, took her on a few trips, fucked her...I made her think I was in love. So, when Harlan and I had our little sit down and he told me he was leaving all of his money to her, I convinced her to split it with me. I told her everything he told me and was able to convince her that I had plans for a future together. Now, the medicine thing, that was just a stroke of pure luck. I don’t know who the hell switched the vials around, but Harlan ended up killing himself anyway. Marta got her money, as did I, and we both stayed out of jail. Fran? Well, she’d always been a nosey little cunt and she was pissing me off. Telling Marta to watch out for me and stay away...she had no reason to worry about what the fuck I was doing. So, I poisoned her,” he shrugs. “It’s not like it was all that hard. It’s amazing how easy it is to slip someone something when they think they’re safe in a room full of fucking vultures.”

“Ransom, that’s fucking awful.”

“You didn’t come on this trip thinking I was some boy scout,” he scoffs, taking a sip of his drink. “You’ve always heard about what a piece of shit I am.”

“I don’t believe everything I hear.”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s not fair. Everyone has their own story, everyone goes through shit, and everyone has their reason for doing what they do.”

“Have you always been this innocent?”

“You mean this fucking stupid? Yes,” you chuckle before sipping on your drink.

“You’re not stupid.”

“Yeah, you can say that. I’m here with you-”

“I mean it, Y/N. All of us are jaded because we have shitty parents. All of us except you. You’re kinder than any of us really deserve, you’re thoughtful, you’re sympathetic, you’re caring...the list goes on. Being a good person doesn’t make you stupid, it just makes you too good for the people you surround yourself with.”

“Then why don’t you do it?”

“I’m jaded, remember?” he smirks and you chuckle. “So, why did you decide to keep things going with me?”

“Besides the sex?” you question with a cocked eyebrow and he laughs. “I don’t know, you just make me happy. Genuinely happy. You’re sweet, kind, gentle, caring...all the things you don’t want people to know about you, you are with me in private.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything in school?”

“I saw the girls you dated,” you chuckle, “I didn’t stand a chance.”

“You were the only one I wanted.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t stand a chance,” he smiles at you. “What are you doing for your birthday?”

“Whatever Daisy has planned,” you laugh.

“What about Jack?”

“Jack hasn’t planned anything for my birthday since the day I said, ‘I do’. Daisy takes over every year, because she knows he isn’t going to do a single fucking thing.”

“Why do you stay with him?”

“It’s what...it makes my mom’s life easier, so I do it.”

“But you’re unhappy?”

“So what? What does that mean to me? She raised me. My dad was MIA and she put up with a ton-”

“She’s your parent. It’s her fucking job to be your parent-”

“She didn’t have to stay, Ransom,” you sigh. “She stayed for me. It’s not like she wouldn’t have gotten any money if she would have left him, and she would’ve gotten a good chunk of it too. She stayed for me. All of the hell that she endured, all of the gossip, the abuse...she didn’t want to leave me alone and she was a firm believer that a child needs two parents, because that’s what her parents instilled in her. My father was never terrible to me, he was just awful to her. She didn’t see the point in leaving if he was good to me. Which is why I’m so damn nice now, but also why I vowed to never end up in a marriage like hers. What a fucking joke that turned out to be,” you mumble, downing the rest of your drink.

“She’d want you to be happy then.”

“You heard her that day, Ransom. By not having a failed marriage, I am making her happy.”

“Your marriage has failed.”

“Ransom-”

“You deserve to be happy, Y/N. You do so much for everyone else all the time, you deserve to live a good life.”

“How do I know that you’re not trying to fuck me over like you did Marta?”

“I don’t need your money.”

“You didn’t need hers.”

“What was hers was originally mine.”

“How am I supposed to believe you? It’s not like you’ve ever shown any desire to do something with your life.”

“That was then, this is now.”

“What’s so different now?”

“I have you.”

“Ransom-”

“Listen, if you tell me to, I’ll buy you a ticket right now and you can go home.”

“I think it’s pretty obvious that I don’t want that.”

“Why stay?”

“You don’t bullshit me. You’re not hiding the worst parts of yourself to make me believe some version of you that doesn’t actually exist. You could be just like Jack, but you choose not to be. That and you just make me really fucking happy,” you smile at him.

“Lets get out out of here.”

“We haven’t eaten!” you laugh.

“Who cares? W e can eat wherever, lets just get the fuck out of here.”

“Are you drunk?”

“That I am,” he laughs and you laugh along with him, “but I just want to be out with you. Until you get a divorce, we can’t be out like this, and I like being this open with you. I like having you to myself. Lets just explore the fucking city.”

“You really are something else,” you smile at him.

“Let me show you just how much,” he smirks.

Maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s because he’s so damn charismatic, but you find yourself following his lead.

It’s cold, but Ransom holds you close as you two walk around and take in the sights. You both take turns asking each other questions, engaging in conversations about politics and basic human rights (Ransom’s opinion falling on that he doesn’t care as long as it works out for him), eating at random stands (hot dog, pretzel, and a burger one), and somehow ending up at a Jazz club. The entire time, Ransom keeps surprising you with just how thoughtful and sweet he is, and it has you re-thinking everything. Maybe he is worth all the risk. He wants to be committed to you and he’s excited about it.

Just maybe you got it right this time.

“It’s late and we need sleep,” you giggle as Ransom carries you on his back.

“Do we really?”

“Ransom.”

“Alright, we’ll head back, but I have a full week planned for us.”

“Hugh Ransom Drysdale, what the hell did you do?”

“Just you wait and see.”

**

The week you spend with Ransom is the best week you’ve ever had. After talking him into actually going down to the river to watch them dye it, he took you out for lunch, and he was shamelessly sweet to you. He kissed you whenever he got a chance, held your hand, paid for everything (even though you told him multiple times that you can pay for yourself), he pulled you into the bathroom and fucked you senseless at every bar you two went to, and he made sure to make it known that you’re his and his alone.

The whole week felt like a dream. Every day was a new adventure and Ransom made sure to never disappoint.

“Lets extend our trip another week,” he suggests as he gets in bed next to you.

“Ha ha,” you mumble as you continue typing away on your laptop.

“Why can’t we?”

“We have lives to get back to...well, I have a life to get back to.”

“I know they’re things we have to do, but the world hasn’t set itself on fire yet. We can stay.”

“What could you possibly have to do?”

“Don’t be rude.”

“You don’t have a fucking job,” you laugh.

“I run the publishing company.”

“Uh huh, with Walt’s help.” “I pay Walt, don’t I?”

“Sure daddy,” you giggle as he closes your laptop.

“Tell me you don’t wanna stay longer,” he coos before kissing your shoulder.

“Of course I want to, but we can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Ransom,” you moan, feeling his hand making its way between your legs.

“Why can’t we stay?”

“We have...oh fuck,” you sigh as you lull your head back.

“I wanna stay with you for another week, baby.”

“Ransom...”

“Never been this happy,” he groans as he starts massaging your clit faster.

“Please...fuck!”

“Never felt so good.”

“Ransom...you know we have to go back.”

“Then stop working and let me show you how happy you’ve made me this week.”

“Baby-”

“Please, sweetheart.”

“Fuck!” you squeal, cumming hard as he massages your neck with his tongue. “Baby, please!”

“You want me, sweetheart?” he questions, starting to fuck you with his fingers

“I always want you, Ransom!”

“Why? Why do you keep me around? Hmm?”

“Don’t-”

“Say it, after all we’ve talked about this week...tell me,” he pleads.

“I...I love you, Ransom.”

“Say it again.”

“Fuck, I love you, Ransom! I love you so much”

“I love you too, sweetheart! I always have!”

“Shit!” you cry out as squirt hard on his fingers.

“You always make such a pretty mess for me, baby.”

“Ransom...”

“I wanna show you just how much I love you,” he moans as pulls out his fingers out, licking them before shoving them into your mouth. “Will you let me?”

You just is nod as you suck and lick his fingers clean.

Almost instantly, Ransom has you topless and on your back; kissing his way down your body as you beg him not to stop.  

“I’ve waited so long to hear you say it, baby,” he hums before licking your clit. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“I need you so much, baby,” you whimper as he starts fucking you with his tongue. “Only wanna be with you!”

You grip his hair tight as he picks up his pace and starts teasing your clit with his thumb, and you start grinding your pussy against his face.

“Ransom...oh fuck! Honey, I’m so fucking close!” you cry out, your toes curling as you try to hold on.

All he does is pick up his pace, which sends you into a earth shattering orgasm, screaming his name as you come apart.

“So desperate, baby. Desperate to be loved?” he smirks after cleaning up the mess you made.

“Just...just wanna be yours, Ransom.”

“I want you to be mine and mine alone,” he mumbles he licks and kisses his way back up your body.

“Please don’t...I’m not strong enough to get hurt again.”

“I don’t ever wanna hurt you, baby. Just wanna take care of you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” he husks, stopping to lick and suck on one of your nipples, while his one hand pinches and massages the other.

“Ah fuck!”

“When we get home,” he broods as he resumes kissing up your body, “you’re moving in with me and leaving that piece of shit.”

“Ransom-”

“You know you want to. You know you belong with me,” he encourages as he thrusts himself inside of you.

“Oh my GOD!”

“Feel so fucking good, baby!”

“Ransom we can’t...we have to...fuck! That’s the spot!” you whimper, hooking your right leg around his waist as you start to move with him. “Fuck, I need you so much!”

“Say you’ll come and live with me, baby! Don’t know how long...fuck! This fucking pussy!”

“I’m so close!”

“Say it, sweetheart! Say you’ll stay with me!”

“Ransom, I...I...ah shit! I can’t hold on!”

“Cunt always fucking squeezes me so tight!”

“Fuck!” you scream, digging your nails into his back as you squirt hard, your back arching just a bit as you fade into your euphoric state.

“Jesus fuck, Y/N!” Ransom growls into your neck right before biting down on it and gripping the sheets tight as his release fills you.

You both lay there for a moment, trying to catch your breaths as Ransom rides out both your highs, and you try to form a complete thought.

“I love you, Y/N,” Ransom breathes out. “I love you and you love me, just be with me.”

“You know it’s not that simple.”

“Why isn’t it? You don’t owe anyone shit.”

“Ransom-”

“Do you want to be with me?”

“You know I do!”

“Then just say yes, baby.”

“Ransom...I have to think about it.”

“What is there to think about?”

“Everything,” you laugh humorlessly. “We just started this and I’m still...I’m still working on trusting you.”

“Even after-”

“You said so yourself, we can’t be like this when we get back home. We’re away from everyone and everything on this trip, and while it’s absolutely perfect, it’s not reality. I can’t be dumb about this. Not again.”

“I’m not Jack.”

“You played with Marta’s heart for money and killed Fran. You’re not a fucking saint. Ransom.”

“That’s fair,” he laughs, “but I love you. I have loved you for so long and if you just give me a chance...I can show you. I can be the man you want. The man you can trust.”

“If we can keep on track like we are, which I know won’t be easy,-” you state before he has a chance to interrupt, “then I’ll happily move in and divorce Jack.”

“You’re annoying.”

“You can always go and find someone less annoying.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he smirks and you burst out laughing. “If you say you need time, I’ll give you time. I am serious though, Y/N. I’ve never loved anyone besides you, and it’s never going to stop. I want to be with you forever.”

“I believe you, baby. I love you too. So fucking much,” you smile at him; wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close for a passionate kiss, giggling when you feel him stir back to life.

“I think you’re done working for the day,” he breathes once you two break apart, starting to move within you again; that infamous smug smirk tugging at his lips.

“Ransom,” you moan with a small laugh.

“It’s our last full day here, lets end it with a bang,” he pouts as you start cracking up.

You and Ransom spend the rest of the day making love and ordering room service. The only time he lets you out of his arms when you have to go to the bathroom, and the second you get back, he’s back to holding you and putting on whatever movie you feel like watching.

As the day winds down, and you both begrudgingly get ready to leave tomorrow, your heart is full and hopeful. Yes, the week you’ve spent with him has been perfect and a complete dream, but you still have your reservations. It’s not like you don’t believe him, but once people get back around their comfort spaces, they tend to fall back into their old habits.

Good and bad.

“You’re thinking pretty fucking hard, sweetheart,” Ransom mumbles, causing you to jump.

“I thought you were sleeping,” you laugh softly.

“No one can sleep with how much noise is going on in your head.”

“How can you tell?”

“Your heart rate is slightly faster than usual, you breathe a lot easier when you’re asleep, and your index finger is making little circles on my hip; something you only do when you can’t sleep. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, go back to sleep.”

“Talk to me.”

“I just...I want this to work. I want to be with you and I want to trust you, but-”

“I’m not a fool, sweetheart. I know that I have a lifetime to make up for, and a lot to prove. You need time and I get that. For now, just be here with me. Live in the moment and worry about tomorrow when it gets here. I love you and you love me. We’ll figure this out, okay? Just rest of now.”

‘For now, just be here with me.’

If only it were that simple.

“I love you, Ransom.”

“I love you too, sweetheart. Just try and rest, okay?”

“I’ll do my best,” you tell him reassuringly

As you do your best to silence your thoughts, one thing keeps coming to mind:

How the hell do you determine if Ransom truly means everything he says, or if he has some ulterior motive?

How can you tell in Ransom’s love is true?

**

“Babe, where is your head at?” Daisy asks as you two get ready for whatever the hell she has planned for your birthday.

“Did you invite Ransom to whatever the hell it is you planned tonight?” you ask, smoothing your hands over your dress.

“Yes?”

“Fucking hell.”

“Okay, what the hell is going on? You’ve been in a weird head space since you two got back from your trip in March.”

“I just...he was so patient, but now it feels like he’s rushing me.”

“Rushing you to what?”

“Make a choice.”

“It’s only been a month and a half!?”

“That’s what I said.”

“To which he said...?”

“We’ve been arguing for the last two weeks,” you mutter, sitting down on her bed with a heavy sigh as you remember the last big argument you two had.

“What the fuck else do you want me to do?!” Ransom yelled, getting out of bed and pulling on his boxer briefs.

“Ransom, you told me you’d give me time!”

“Haven’t I?! How much more time-”

“It’s only been a month!”

“It took you a lot less time-”

“I’d advise you to think hard before you finish that fucking statement,” you warned.

“I don’t see why you can’t just trust me!”

“Because you’re right, Ransom!” you yelled at him as you sat up. “I mindlessly gave myself to Jack, and now look!”

“You know it’s not the same with me!”

“Ransom-”

“I haven’t fucked anyone besides you, I haven’t given my attention to anyone besides-”

“That’s not enough! A month isn’t long enough-”

“We would be able to explore this further if you’d fucking leave him!”

“I’m going home!” you yelled, getting out of his bed and looking for whatever piece of clothing he hadn’t torn off you when you got there. “Goddammit! I need a fucking-”

“If you’d just move in, you wouldn’t need to fucking-”

“Ransom, I swear to God!”

“You don’t love him, Y/N! At least, not anymore! You spend all of your free time here, you don’t even fuck him anymore, you can’t sleep when you’re away from me-”

“Ransom-”

“Just fucking be with me!”

“Why are you pushing this so much?!”

“Because I fucking love you!”

“Then you would be patient!”

“If you loved me, you would just trust me!”

“I’m not having this fucking argument with you again! Just give me some fucking clothes and let me-”

“If you leave this time, don’t fucking come back, Y/N. I’m not gonna keep doing this shit with you, cause you’re a fucking coward!”

“Then I guess this is done,” you shrugged.

“Y/N, I fucking mean it!”

“Me too. If you’re gonna fucking bully me, I guess this is the end of this!”

Ransom went two weeks without talking to you before texting you:

‘You know I didn’t mean it. Just fucking come home.’

Aka

“I’m sorry.”

You, in all your stubborn glory, refused to see him, which only resulted in another argument.

You’re too stubborn, he’s a jackass, you’re afraid of everything, he’s too much of a hot headed shit head to see when he’s wrong, you’re a bitch, he’s an complete asshole...

So on and so on.

You weren’t sure if he’d want anything to do with your birthday, because he’d been so...

“Is he coming?” you ask Daisy.

“He said he was.”

“For fucks sake!”

“What did I do wrong?!”

“It’s not you, it’s he and I. We’re having the world’s dumbest fucking fight and I don’t know...I miss him so much, but he’s such a fucking asshole sometimes. And I get it, okay? I do. I put him in a shitty spot, I’m still married and he’s trying to figure if I’m going to pick him or not, but I’m just fucking scared. Yes, Ransom has been up front with me about everything, but I trusted Jack so fast and now look.”

“Do you want my input?”

“No, but I know it would help.”

“Bitch,” she smirks, taking a seat next to you and you chuckle. “I believe that Ransom loves you. I’ve seen him out and he doesn’t even look at other women, the rumor mill says that he’s actually taken a hands on roll with the company, he’s made some pretty smart investments, and I can tell that he wouldn’t be so upset about this if he didn’t have real feelings for you. I know it’s scary, but just take the leap. It’s painfully obvious that you love him, and hes been in love with you...”

“I just don’t want to get-”

“Babe, if he fucks you over, I’ll chop his fucking balls off. Scouts honor.”

“You were never a scout?”

“But I really wanted to be,” she sighs and you burst out laughing. “Just be with him, the man is so in love with you...I think you’ll be happy. I actually believe that he’ll be good to you, which is insane because he’s a piece of shit, but he seems to want to change for you. Just tell him. Tell him you love him and you want to be with him.”

“You really think he’s worth it?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” she laughs softly as you lay your head on her shoulder.

“What if it all goes to shit?”

“Then we’ll figure it out together, just like we always have.”

“I feel like birthdays are supposed to be happier than this.”

“Especially when it’s your 30th ,” she giggles.

“If this is a shit show-”

“Oh, we’re totally going to Five Guys.”

“You know me so well,” you smile as she cracks up.

As you both finish up getting ready, you try to ignore the feeling in your stomach that tells you something is going to go wrong. All that matters is that you love Ransom and he loves you, because that’s more than enough....

Right?

**

Daisy surprised you with a party at your absolute favorite restaurant. The place is so damn expensive, so you only go on special occasions, and Daisy told you that another year of you existing is the most important thing that anyone could ever celebrate.

You started crying before you got your first drink.

Soon enough, the drinks were flowing, people were eating and dancing, and everyone was instantly becoming more comfortable with each other.

“Isn’t your boss married?” Daisy asks with a slight slur as she approaches you with two drinks in hand.

“I mean, I am too,” you scowl, hating how jealous you are at the sight of her shamelessly flirting with Ransom.

“Not really.”

“Do not start.”

“Oh come on!”

“You’re the one that invited him and his parents! I didn’t know anything about this!”

“I invited them out of obligation, and I’m fucking regretting it, because Jack’s mom is being a fucking bitch to the staff,” she mutters with an eye roll. “Ah fuck, Ransom’s coming over.”

“Daisy, please don’t let him-”

“You have to face him at some point, babe.”

“On my birthday?!” “You’re the one that’s been avoiding him. I’ll talk to you later.”

“I hate you.”

“I love you too, babe,” she laughs, kissing your cheek then walking off.

“I guess I know what you two were talking about,” he sighs as he comes up behind you.

“I don’t wanna argue with you tonight, Ransom. I really don’t.” “Can you please look at me?”

“No, because then everyone will know.”

“Is that so wrong?”

“Can we not have this talk here, where literally anyone can hear. Besides, Jack looks pissed enough as it is. He’s been on edge all day.”

“I’ll bet he has,” Ransom chuckles.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Take a walk with me.”

“Ransom-”

“You’re the one who wants to talk in private.”

“I can’t just-”

“I won’t take you out of here unless you ask me,” he promises and you roll your eyes.

“Fine,” you sigh, finally turning around but not looking at him, “lead the way.”

You feel Jack’s eyes on you, as well as your parents, and you can feel a storm brewing. The last thing you need is for anyone finding you and Ransom doing something you shouldn’t, so in this moment, you tell yourself that nothing can happen.

Once you two reach the coat check, he stands aside to the side to let you, following right behind you and closing the door.

‘Nothing can happen,’ you tell yourself mentally.

“Ransom, I know I shouldn’t have just-”

He interrupts you with a passionate and soul stealing kissing and you don’t even put up a fight.

‘God, that didn’t last long, did it?’

“I’ve missed you,” he breathes once you two break apart, lifting the bottom of your dress up.

“I’ve missed you too, but Ransom...oh fuck!” you whimper, the feel of his fingers on your clit make you feral.

“Come home, sweetheart,” he begs, slowly and easily sliding two fingers into your already soaked cunt.

“Ransom....oh fuck!” you moan, lulling your head back.

“We can make this work, I’ll take care of you, and I won’t let any of those fucks hurt you. I love you,” he broods before starting to bite and suck on your sweet spot right below your ear

“Jesus Ransom!”

“Missed having you in my bed, in my arms...underneath me....on the balcony,” he breathes, and you feel his smirk on your neck.

“Feels too fucking...fuck!” you cry out softly, cumming hard and feeling the pleasure that only he can make you feel.

God, you missed him.

“You let him fuck you, baby?” Ransom questions, fucking you through your high with his fingers before ripping your panties off.

“N-no baby, I only want you,” you whine, needing him to fill you in the worst way possible.

“Cause you’re mine?” he asks, undoing his pants before hoisting you up, and you instinctively wrap your legs around him. “You’re all mine?” he grunts as thrusts himself inside of you.

“Oh fuck!”

“Tell me, sweetheart! Tell me you’re all mine!”

“I’m all...all yours! I only want to be with you!” you moan. “Fuck, missed you so much, baby!”

“Never wanna sleep without you again! I love you so fucking much!” thrusting hard fast, gripping you like he’s afraid you’re going to vanish into thin air.

“Oh fuck! Ransom!”

“Let them hear you, sweetheart! Let them know you’re mine!”

“Ransom-”

“C’mon baby, you know you want me! You choose me!” he encourages as he finds that spot within you that always brings you to the state of pure bliss that no one else has ever been able to.

You push yourself out of the euphoric high you’re close to and force yourself to think about the conversation you had with Daisy. You do love Ransom. You love him so much it makes you insane (or maybe it’s just him that makes you insane), and you don’t want to spend another day without him. Yes, they’re are issues and it’s definitely not picture perfect, but you’re willing to work out the issues.

You want to work them out.

“Fuck, I’m yours, Ransom! Yours only!” you yell as you squirt hard, wrapping your arms around him tight as you try and hold on.

“Fuck!” he growls into your chest as fills you to brim, like always, making you so full and happy.

So fucking loved.

“I mean it, sweetheart,” he husks after riding out both your highs, “I want you home. I want you by my side. They’re things we need to talk about, I know that, but I’m tired of this. I love you.”

“I love you too, Ransom, with all of my heart.”

“We’ll leave now and-”

“I can’t just leave Jack without saying anything. I at least-”

“You don’t owe him shit. Lets just fucking go.”

“It’s my birthday party.”

“Daddy has gifts for you at home,” he smirks and you burst out laughing.

All hell is about to break loose, but he still makes you laugh like an idiot. God, you are so in love with this man.

“You know they heard us, we have to-”

“We don’t have to do a single fucking thing we don’t feel like doing.”

“Ransom-”

“Fuck all of these-”

“OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR, RANSOM!” Jack demands as he bangs on the coat check door.

So much for having a happy birthday.

“Fuck!” you sigh as Ransom pulls out and slowly sets you down.

“Hey, you have nothing to be scared of. He’s not gonna lay a fucking finger on you, I swear.”

“I don’t want you getting into a-”

“OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR, RANSOM! I SWEAR TO GOD!” Jack demands as Ransom pulls up his boxer briefs and pants.

“It’s gonna be fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry,” Ransom promises with a reassuring smile.

He makes it so damn hard to not trust him.

“Fuck off, Jack,” Ransom warns as soon as he opens the door.

“Fuck you, Drysdale!” he spits, doing his best push him aside, but failing miserably. “The fuck did he say to you, huh? What the fuck did he promise you?!”

“Jack, you know this marriage has been dead for a while-”

“No! You and I...I know I haven’t been the best-”

“Jack, please don’t do this. It’s just over-”

“Y/N-” Jack interrupts as he tries to make his way to you.

“Don’t you fucking touch her,” Ransom growls.

“What are you gonna do? Not a single fucking thing, because I bet you didn’t tell her the fucking truth.”

“Shut the fuck up! That wasn’t apart of our agreement!”

“It wasn’t an agreement, remember? It was a bet,” Jack smiles sadistically.

Okay, what the fuck is going on?

“What’s he talking about, Ransom?” you ask, backing away from him as your heart to starts to fall apart.

“Listen, lets just go home and we’ll talk all about-”

“Tell her the fucking truth, Ransom! It’s not like you won her heart fair and square-”

“STAY OUT OF THIS!” he roars at Jack.

So much for not having your business out in the open.

“Ransom....no...I was a fucking bet to you? This is all a fucked up game to you?”

“I swear it’s not, if you’ll just hear me out-”

“It’s been a bet from day one,” Jack chuckles humorlessly, “since our first fucking date. What was it? $10,000 I won off of you?”

“Shut the fuck up right now,” Ransom warns before turning his attention back towards you. “I swear to God, I was gonna tell you tonight when we got home-”

“We don’t have a fucking home,” you sob, finally putting the pieces together. “So, that’s why you were pushing me to pick you? What? Was there a deadline for me to pick one of you?”

When they both stood there completely silent, you let out an incredulous  laugh.

Of fucking course.

“MY FUCKING BIRTHDAY OF ALL DAYS?!” you shout. “Of course, because the both of you are sick fucks, it makes all the sense in the fucking world!”

“Sweetheart, please, lets just go back-”

“How much was I worth? How much was my love and affection worth?!”

“Y/N, please-”

“HOW FUCKING MUCH, RANSOM?!”

“$40,000,” he replies softly, looking away from you.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re fucking ashamed now! You knew what the fuck you were doing, but it’s all the same to you, isn’t it? I’m just another Marta?”

“This is not the same thing!”

“People really don’t matter to either one of you, do they? We’re all just a giant Monopoly game to you? Who cares who gets hurt as long as you all get your fucking money, right? Your happiness is all that matters?”

“Please, lets just go...I’ll explain everything-”

“There’s nothing to fucking explain, Ransom! Not a single fucking thing! You won, fair and square, so I guess you get your money! Right, Jack? I was gonna leave you for him, so he gets paid?”

“Honey-”

“Don’t you dare fucking ‘honey’ me,” you warn with a low growl. “I have put up with hell during this fucking marriage, because you fucking knew I wouldn’t leave to spare my family, but you had to go and fucking bet on it?! I mattered that little to you?! Yeah no, I’m done with the both of you. I can’t fucking do any of this anymore. Pay him his money, sign the fucking papers, and the both of you can fuck off and go straight to hell,” you scowl before pushing past the both of them and storming out.

“Y/N, please just-”

“Jack, I swear to fucking Christ, you put your hands on me and I’ll fucking stab you!”

“Please, just...I know it’s all fucked, but I do love you!”

“That’s why you’re cheating all the fucking time?! That’s why you tried to sleep with my best friend?!”

“I can do better-”

“You’re pathetic and I’m tired. I want a fucking divorce and that’s final.”

“Sweetheart, please just-”

“I fucking hate you, Ransom!” you yell, stopping and turning your full attention towards him.

“You don’t mean that!” he retorts as his eyes start to well up with tears. “You love me just as much as I love you!”

“I DON’T BELIEVE YOU! NOT ANYMORE!” you scream as angry tears start streaming down your face. “I DON’T BELIEVE A SINGLE FUCKING THING YOU HAVE TO SAY! YOU’RE JUST AS BAD AS THE REST OF THEM!”

“Baby-”

“Don’t fucking ‘baby’ me! I’m not your fucking anything! I was just a toy to get you more money and now you have it! Leave me alone and stay the fuck away fuck from me!”

“You know how much I-”

Ransom’s cut off by a fist to the face by Daisy.

“She said she’s fucking done! Leave her alone!” Daisy snaps at both Ransom and Jack.

“Daisy, you know good and damn well-”

“Jack, I’ve been begging for a fucking reason to fucking kill you! Say one more fucking thing and tonight will be that fucking night!” she warns before taking your hand and leading you out of the restaurant with her. “What do you want? What do you need?” she asks as you two make your way to her car.

“Can I just stay with you?” you sob.

“Anything you want, babe,” she promises, starting her car with her key fob before opening the door for you.

The entire drive to her house, you just cry and scream; trying to figure out how you got mixed up in all of their bullshit. Your phone won’t stop going off, and you know it’s Ransom. Yeah, you’re sure that Jack is trying to talk to you too, but it’s mainly Ransom. The tears in his eyes, the way he looked at you, the way he loved you...

It’s Ransom.

“It’s going to be okay,” Daisy promises as she pulls up to her, resting her hand on you thigh.

“I really don’t think so this time. I love him so much and I believed...I believed in every fucking thing he said.”

“Which one?”

“Ransom. Its always been Ransom.”

**

“You don’t think you could ever see yourself settling down and being a house wife?” Ransom asked as he held you close and you rested your head on his chest.

You’d taken a day off from sight seeing in Chicago and just spent the day in bed with Ransom. Fucking, talking, laughing, watching movies, and getting to know each other.

It was the best fucking day you’d ever had.

“Why should I want to?”

“I could take care of you.”

“What? Are you bothered by how much money I make?”

“It doesn’t matter to me,” he scoffed with a shrug, “I just know you’ve been working hard for forever, and I think you’d like to just sit back and relax.”

You were thoughtful before you responded with, “I guess...if I’m comfortable enough...if I trust the guy enough, then yeah. I could be a housewife.”

“Could you see yourself trusting me enough?” he asked timidly.

You looked up and smiled at him, “maybe.”

“What are we doing today?” Daisy asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You’d been staying with her for the last month and it had been a whirlwind to say the least.

“I figured I’d sign on the house, then get a bunch of furniture.”

“Did Jack finally sign the fucking papers?”

“Yeah, and I can only believe he did because you slashed his tires and destroyed his car.”

“He’s lucky I didn’t slash his fucking throat when he popped up here.”

“A bold move considering how much you hate him. How much you’ve always hated him.”

Jack waited three days before showing up to Daisy’s house; deciding he had a right to start making demands.

“You have to talk to me, Y/N! I’m your fucking husband!” he shouted, standing on the top step of Daisy’s house.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” she yelled, letting go of you and making her way to the window, “FUCK OFF!”

“She’s my fucking wife, Daisy! Stay out of this!”

“Jack, I swear to God I’ll beat the shit out of you myself!”

“It’s not like she’s fucking innocent! Letting Ransom use her as his own personal fuck doll!”

“I’m gonna murder him,” Daisy muttered before backing away from the window and storming out of the room.

“Daisy! Daisy, stop it!” you shouted, getting up and running after her.

“This is my house and I’m telling you to get the fuck out of here!” she roared as soon as she opened the front door.

“You’re keeping my wife in there-”

“Jack, I swear to God! I punched Ransom in the fucking face and I’ll punch you too!”

“I’m not fucking afraid of a little who-”

The sound of Daisy’s fist connecting with Jack’s nose made you jump.

“YOU FUCKING BITCH! YOU BROKE MY NOSE!”

“You want a fucking black eye to go with it?! Get off of my property! I’m not as fucking nice as Y/N! I will call the cops and press charges! Now, get the fuck off of my property!”

“This isn’t fucking over,” he growled before storming off.

“Daisy, he can press charges!” you yelled as soon as she slammed the door shut.

“I wish he fucking would, he was on my goddamn property, uninvited, making demands, and screaming. I’ll tell the cops I was fearing for my life,” she shrugged. “Are you okay?”

“Daisy-”

“Are you okay?”

“I will be, thank you,” you sighed as your eyes started to water. “I love you.”

“I love you too, hun,” she smiled weakly as wrapped you in a tight hug. “Lets order Chinese and watch Hereditary.”

“You always know the right things to say,” you laughed and she laughed along with you.

Two days later, he dropped off a hospital bill and she just laughed, saying,

“He’s a fucking lunatic if he thinks I’m paying for his fucking nose. He can take me to fucking court. My dad is a better lawyer than his is anyway.”

A week later, he called you screaming about the divorce papers and, once again, you just begged him to sign them. As usual, he told you no and that you two could work through all of it.

“Oh, he’s gonna sign those fucking papers,” Daisy muttered, getting up and putting her shoes on.

“How the hell are gonna get him to agree to that?” you scoffed as you threw your phone down.

“I’m gonna wreck his precious little Porsche.”

“Yeah okay,” you laughed before laying back and flipping through channels. However, your demeanor changed when you saw her grab her switchblade. “DAISY!”

“Be back in a little, darling!” she called over her shoulder as she practically skipped down the steps.

30 minutes later, she was back with a look of pure satisfaction on her face.

“Daisy-”

“He should be signing those papers any day now.” “What did you do?!”

“Oh, ya know, slashed his tires, broke all his windows, smashed the windshield-”

“DAISY!”

“I can be just as crazy as him.”

“They’re gonna have you committed,” you laughed.

“If they haven’t caught me by now, they’ll never catch me.”

Three days later, your lawyer called you to tell that Jack returned the papers, signed and without fuss. You were excited to tell Daisy, but your parents decided that would be a good day to show up and try to talk to you.

Cause the universe can never let you have a good fucking day,

“You have to admit that you’re somewhat responsible for this. I warned you,” your Mother snapped.

“If you came here to talk me back into getting back with him, you’re too late. My lawyer already called me to tell me he signed the papers,” you shrugged as you lit a cigarette.

“Enough hasn’t happened?! Now you have to-”

“Leave her alone,” your Father sighed, reaching for your cigarettes and grabbing one of his own.

“For fucks sake! You’re a doctor! You know how bad-”

“God, just stop complaining for five fucking minutes, please!” your Father shouted, slamming his hand against the table it, and it caused both you and your Mother to jump.

“Listen Y/N,” your Father started, “obviously, we’re not proud and we’re not happy.”

“Dad-”

“Just hear me out. Fucking in a restaurant full of your family and friends? We raised you’d much better than that.”

Oh, if only he knew where else you and Ransom had been having fun.

“However, we understand. You and Jack...it should’ve been over a while ago and we...we shouldn’t have pushed for you to stay. Finding out that all of this was just a bet...lets just say that his Father exchanged a few words after you left,” he sighed before he took a drag from his cigarette. “Now, as for you and Ransom-”

“Do not bring him up,” you instantly snapped, taking a drag from your own cigarette.

“Y/N-”

“Drop it.”

“You can’t just-”

“Y/F/N, just leave it alone,” she urged softly.

You knew she would understand.

“Fine, anyway, as an apology, your Mother and I wanna pay for your new house.”

“Um thanks, but no thanks,” you scoffed before you took a final drag from your cigarette and ashed it.

“Sweet Pea, we’re trying to make up for this-”

“If you want to make up for things, maybe try just being better parents. It’s not that hard.”

“You have to understand-”

“No, you have to understand. I don’t ask either of you for anything, I take care of myself, and up until recently, I’ve stayed out of trouble. The moment I told you both about how bad things were getting, you made me feel like shit for wanting better. Then, when I rightfully filed for a divorce the first time, I got bullied into going back. He beat me the fuck up, and you both made excuses, blamed me, and pushed me back to him. I should’ve been your top priority and I wasn’t. I don’t want fancy gifts or money, I just want you two to be better parents,” you finished with a small sob as you dried your eyes. “Now, you two should leave. Daisy is gonna be home soon and you two are the last two people she wants to see.”

“We’ll call you in a few days,” is all your Mother said as they both got up.

When Daisy got home and crying, she didn’t even ask what was wrong, she just sat next to you and held you. It had become routine.

“Ya know, I’m happy that you let Jack keep everything, but you should’ve gone for the Maserati,” Daisy sighs, getting up as her doorbell rings.

“I didn’t want it.”

“Yeah, but I did,” she calls over shoulder. “You could’ve gotten it and gifted it to me. Then-oh, what the fuck do you want?!” she suddenly yells.

“Jesus fucking Christ, calm down, Daisy. I’m here to see, Y/N,” Ransom retorts, clearly in no mood to deal with a middle man.

“She doesn’t wanna see you-”

“I’m not leaving, Daisy. Even if you do punch me again.”

“I should fucking stab you.”

“It’s not like I wouldn’t past you.”

You take a deep breath before getting up and making your way to the front door.

“I’ll handle it, Dais-”

“Hun-”

“He really isn’t going to leave, so I may as well-”

“I can always call the cops.”

“Lets save that for if Jack comes back,” you chuckle softly.

Daisy looks from Ransom to you before saying, “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.”

Then there were two.

“What is she? Your personal bodyguard now?” Ransom scoffs.

“What do you want, Hugh?”

“Don’t.”

“Isn’t that what you make the help call you? Isn’t that all I am? A trinket you can use to get money?” “Stop it, you know that’s not true! I love you!”

“There was a time when I actually believed that,” you scoffed.

“Listen, please just hear me out. You won’t answer my texts or calls-”

“Why should I?!”

“Because you don’t know everything!”

“Hugh-”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?! You got your money, didn’t you?!”

“I didn’t take the fucking money!”

“Why the hell not? You went through all this-”

“I LOVE YOU!” he shouts and you let out a frustrated groan. “I don’t care about any of it. I know I’m an asshole and that it’s to believe that I didn’t care about you at all, but that’s not...God, if only understood just how much I actually love you.”

“Are there no other women for you to manipulate? You haven’t-”

“I’ll show you my bank account-”

“What the fuck will that prove? You had a ton of money before, so $40,000 isn’t really going to do much, is it?”

“Sweetheart, what can I do?”

“Ransom, I trusted you! I trusted you; I gave you my heart. I let you do things to me that I’d never let anyone else do to me. I was about to face hell for you, and then I find out, ON MY FUCKING BIRTHDAY NO LESS, that this was all a bet to you! How the fuck do you think that makes me feel?! The worst part is, I still love you and I miss you like crazy, but I don’t trust you. I can’t. Honestly, I don’t know if I ever will again.”

“Please, let me just explain myself. Hear me out and if you still...if you still feel like this is something we can’t salvage, I’ll...”

“You’ll what?”

“I don’t, try to think of something else.”

“Ransom-”

“I’m not gonna tell you that I’m gonna let you go, sweetheart. Cause I fucking can’t. I’ve held you in my arms, I’ve made love to you, I’ve fucking felt your love which is what I wanted sine forever...I can’t just quit and walk away.”

“Ransom-”

“Just hear me out, okay? You know me well enough that I wouldn’t beg if I didn’t care. If I didn’t love you.”

He had you there.

You run a hand through your hair and huff, “let me go and put on some shoes-”

“Why-”

“You’re insane if you think Daisy is gonna let you step foot in her house after all of this.”

“Oh for fucks sake-”

“Ransom, she punched you once. You think she won’t do it again?”

“Fucking fine,” he mutters, rolling his eyes.

The second you step you make your way back into the living area, Daisy is looking at you with a cocked eyebrow and her arms folded across her chest.

“I don’t need it today, Dais.”

“So, you’re just gonna take him back?”

“I haven’t decided on anything, I’m just going to talk to him.”

“Uh huh.”

“Dais.”

“You do what you think is best.”

“Daisy, I know, okay? I fucking know but-”

“I get it, babe. I really do. I know you love him, but you’ve been through so much already. However, with Ransom...I know you still cry when you think I can’t hear you, you hold your phone a little bit longer when he’s the one calling you before you hit ignore...you’re never going to be over him, so you need to do this.”

“Thank you,” you smile, eyes watery, as you sit down and hug her.

“I better get a good fucking report, or his fucking car is next,” she warns and you laugh with a sniffle.

“You gonna be okay, babe?”

“Like you said: I need to do this,” you shrug.

You get up, take a deep breath, and step into your flip flops.

It’s not going to be easy, but you need some sort of closure...or answer.

“Where do you wanna go?” you ask as you strap yourself into the passenger side of his Beamer.

“My house?”

“Nice fucking try,” you scoff.

“I’m not gonna fucking try anything, Y/N,” he sighs as he turns on the car.

“As already stated, I don’t trust you. So no, not your fucking house.”

“Okay, then where do you wanna go?”

“This was your idea, Ransom.”

“Because you wouldn’t answer your phone!”

“I can go back inside right now if you want.”

“Jesus, fucking stop. You already know I can’t win an argument against you,” he sighs as he starts his car. “It’s not like this is a discussion you want or will have in public, so lets just go to my house. The moment you feel uncomfortable or like it’s going somewhere you don’t want it to go, I’ll bring you back, or pay for a car service for you.”

“Ransom-”

“If there’s another place that you’ll feel more comfortable at, we’ll go there.”

You have a mini mental debate with yourself before suggesting, “I’m going to sign for my new house today. We can talk there.”

“There’s no fucking furniture.”

“Ransom, I swear to God.”

“Okay okay, tell me where it is. We’ll go,” he mutters as he pulls off.

You put the address in his phone and set it up for him to hear the directions, not wanting to talk to him more than you have to. As you both sit in silence, while he drives, you try to prep yourself for what’s about to happen.

Being alone with him terrifies the hell out of you at this point, because it’s been so long and you need him. Every part of you needs him, just like always. You have to be strong though. You have to decide what the hell you’re going to do, because the pain you’re constantly living with while living in limbo is too much. You have to decide if you’re officially done with Hugh Ransom Drysdale, or if you’re ready to quit him for good.

You have to decide if love is enough to save the sinking ship you two have been on for the last month.

~~

taglist: @emerald-evans​, @maroonsunrise83​, @whiskeytangofoxtrot555​ , @companionjones​, @autumnrose40​, @fuckingbye​, @pono-pura-vida​, @nomadstucky​, @mazda098​, @chemtrails-club​

[yuyu-writes]

sweet (just like you) [18+]

[ kinktober 2023 ] day 5 - freebie

⟡ haikyuu!! -- matsukawa issei x reader

⟡ wc: 8,170

⟡ working from @/darling--core's kinktober list! NSFW, 18+ only!

⟡ summary:

Who would have thought, Matsukawa Issei, your best friend's best friend, is a demon?

Obviously, not you. But it works out in your favor, even if you're a demon hunter.

Archive of Our Own

It’s a school night, so you should probably head home soon.

It’s a passing thought as you wipe your cheek, rubbing away the black sludge on your skirt. The stench of blood and ash fills your nose as you watch the minor demon melt. It’s shrieking, writhing in pain as your exorcism spell reaches its end.

Its inky tendril reaches for you, but you don’t even flinch, watching it dissolve into the air with a final cry.

A sigh escapes your lips, and you finally relax your shoulders.

The demons around Miyagi have been more active as of late, and it’s taken a toll on you. You’ve been taking longer patrols after school, which means you stay up later into the night to complete your homework before sleeping a restless sleep and repeating the cycle. You could probably count the number of hours you’ve slept on average with one hand, yikes.

You’re tired, to be frank. Thankfully, most of them are lower levels, but they’re a force to be reckoned with when they have power in numbers, and you only have so much energy to take care of a large area on your own. 

It’s not like you voluntarily chose to hunt demons. But it wasn’t something you could walk away from. Ever since you began seeing them as a child, you soon found yourself under the local priest’s training, mastering basic exorcism techniques and continuing to practice advanced ones that even the priest struggled to use.

No one else saw what you saw, only becoming a victim to them when they sapped human energy to gain more power. You’re not too sure how they’ve come into the human world, but the priest theorizes it’s some sort of rift that has let them cross the barrier. Closing the rift is a whole different story, and even you’re stumped for ideas, so you do what you can in the meantime.

If you could make someone’s life easier, unburdened and no longer haunted, you would.

It was a thankless duty, but a duty regardless.

You head home for the day, dreading the upcoming exams and the pile of homework that sits in your backpack, completely blank.

“Oh, [Name]!” 

The call of your name has you jolting awake at your desk, quickly blinking away the sleep as you look up. “Hiro? What’s up?”

The clay-haired boy enters your classroom, making his way to your desk and sitting in the one in front of yours. For the most part, everyone went off to eat lunch outside since the weather has gotten warmer, which lets you ditch the thick winter uniform for the short sleeve button-up and skirt.

“You said you’d meet me and the other guys for lunch, but you never showed up. And now I find you dozing off– you good?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you wave off, rubbing your eyes. “Been sleeping late the past few nights, but I’m going to try to fix up my sleep schedule this weekend, hopefully.”

Hanamaki eyes you suspiciously, and you stare at him with the same intensity. As childhood friends, you can read him just as easily as he can read you. It’s not often you wear yourself out to the point it's noticeable, but it just can’t be helped and like the workaholic you are, you can always blame it on upcoming college entrance exams.

He gives in with a sigh when he realizes you aren’t faltering, and he shrugs. “Just don’t push yourself too hard,” he says, gently. “You work hard enough as is, and I think you deserve a break with how much you’ve been doing.”

You smile, because you know how much he cares, and you know that he still respects your drive and your own judgment. This also makes you extra careful around Hiro, who would absolutely freak out if he knew you were out hunting demons. 

“Yeah. You too, with volleyball. I don’t think your friends would appreciate having two volleyball-obsessed players.”

“Ha! Like I’d ever reach Oikawa’s level of obsession.”

You banter with him a little, your exhaustion melting away as you chat with your best friend before he suddenly stops mid-sentence with a noise of realization.

“Wait! You haven’t eaten anything, right? Since you were sleeping?” he asks, and when you nod, he stands up quickly, ignoring the way he trips over the chair slightly and grabs your wrist.

“Let’s grab something from the cafeteria before it closes! We can probably make it!”

And you run with him down the halls, dodging friend groups and teachers who yell at the two of you to behave. 

And for the first time in a while, you smile brightly, enjoying this moment of normalcy.

While you absolutely love Hiro, you find yourself unsettled ever so slightly with his friends.

Not Iwaizumi, since he’s rather respectful and polite, and not Oikawa, since he’s just a flirt whenever you’re around.

But Matsukawa Issei is another story. He is…dangerous, for a lack of a better word.

You find yourself nibbling on a curry bun that Hiro managed to buy from the cafeteria right before they closed. With about fifteen minutes left of lunch, you take him up on his previous offer to eat with his friends, sitting on top of the school rooftop with the four boys as they finish up their lunches.

When you greet them, you can’t help but avoid Matsukawa’s heavy stare. There was something oddly familiar and unsettling about it…something you couldn’t quite put your finger on, and you opted to blame it on the unfamiliarity, or the fact that he’s one of Hanamaki’s closer friends after entering high school.

The idea that Matsukawa stole Hanamaki from you doesn’t sit well in your gut and you chastise yourself for even having that thought. Maybe he thinks the same thing, hence the strange feeling you get whenever you are near him. 

You push it to the back of your mind, and do your best to ignore him as lunch comes to an end, heading back to class. It’s uneventful, as always, learning new concepts and putting them to use on your worksheets and later, for exams. It’s mundane, but you enjoy it, since it’s not like you’re actively putting yourself in danger as you normally do.

As soon as the last class ends with the ring of the bell, you briefly replay Hanamaki’s concerned words, before you shake your head.

You’re better than that, you could keep hunting, keep helping , even just a little. It’s a responsibility that you’ve chosen to handle, and you can’t slack off just because you’re a little tired .

It’s ok, you reason with yourself as you pack up your notes. Just a short patrol, and you’ll take time to rest today. 

It’s unfortunate that your plans always seem to get foiled, and you eat your words. Literally.

A blast sends you flying, and you think you hit your head against the lightpost before absolutely eating shit on the sidewalk. The demons laughs, it’s screeching noise grates your ears, slightly disorienting you as you struggle to get up. You’re unsteady on your feet and while you’re fully aware of how hard you’re pushing yourself, you can’t just go home, not when the demon presence in this area is just so high. 

It wasn’t this bad before. Their numbers keep rising, and your efforts barely make a dent in their forces. It’s a harrowing thought that makes you falter for a moment, but you grit your teeth and steel yourself once more. Summoning another talisman,  you launch it at the demon, watching the paper attach themselves to its body, burning through the inky black as it disintegrates. Your limbs tremble, and you ignore the numbness in your legs.

You let out a shaky exhale, but you remain on alert. The air is saturated with despair and evil, and it makes your chest tight.

You’re so, so tired.

Just one more sector. Just a little more and you can end your patrol and go home and get rest.

Just one more–

Thump!

Huh?

Pain sprouts at the temple of your head. You’re staring across the asphalt of the alleyway, the faint silhouettes of demons growing larger–coming closer to you from the street.

Get up, get up!

Yet no matter how much you willed your body to, you lay crumpled, defeated, and tired.

A wave of cold dread washes over you and you close your eyes tight. 

I’m sorry, I’m sorry Hiro, I’m–

High-pitched shrills fill the air, and your eyes fly open, immediately lifting your head to see –

“Makki kept telling me he was worried about how tired you looked. Guess this explains why, huh?”

Matsukawa is standing protectively in front of you, but your eyes land on the black, ridged horns that protrude from his messy hair, curling slightly at the tip and alarms blare in your mind.

Matsukawa Issei is a demon.

And you have to kill him.

The thought crosses your mind briefly, but then you look past him, watching as his splayed hand emits another burst of energy that disintegrates the demons at the mouth of the alleyway. They are the ones screaming in pain, they are the ones to die in front of your eyes. Not you.

“Why…” you mumble, because what was this demon doing, attacking his own kind to protect you?

Without a response, he finishes off the last of the small demons who have attempted to escape around the corner, and silence falls over the two of you. 

Shit, maybe he’s going to kill you next. Maybe he’s just so cruel to take the kill of a demon hunter all to himself. Without a doubt, he was not some weak troublesome demon–no, he was much, much stronger than those you normally deal with.

He would enjoy watching you die, watching the life leave your eyes in amusement.

You close your eyes tight, trying your best to get up, trying your best to come to terms that you are going to die at the hands of a demon (your best friend's best friend, nonetheless) as you listen to his footsteps grow closer and closer. They stop, and you know he’s standing over you, probably reveling in the sight of your weak, crumpled body. 

You brace yourself once more, expecting pain to erupt and bring you to the edge of death.

“Can you stand?” You open your eyes, confusion filling your head. He’s crouched down, hand hovering over your face. The chilling smile of death that you envisioned is erased as you see his eyebrows furrowed as he scans your figure for injuries.

His eyes have a red tint to them that makes you freeze for a moment. He knows fear when he sees it, and he sees it clearly in you as he meets your gaze.

“Y-Yeah. I think so,” you say slowly, shifting to rise. His hands hover over you still as you get to your feet, wobbly, and standing for just a moment before your knees buckle from under you. Matsukawa is quick, arms encircling your frame and catching you before you can hit the ground again. He sits you down against the cold wall, maneuvering you, careful to lean your head back with his hand.

“You’re bleeding a bit,” he points to his forehead, and you swipe at your own, grimacing at the blood. “But you aren’t hurt anywhere else. I’m glad.”

“Glad?” you parrot in disbelief. “You’re glad that I, a demon hunter, am not hurt?”

Matsukawa blinks, before he laughs, soft chuckles escape him and you watch him incredulously because why does he think this is funny? “Yeah, I’m glad,” he says, smiling. “Since you’re the one keepin’ most of them at bay. I try to get rid of ones near the school area, but I usually don’t go any farther out than that.”

“What do you mean you get rid of them?”

He contemplates for a moment, eyeing the entrance of the alley before his eyes flicker back to you. “Maybe we should get out of here and have a chat, hm?”

Never in your life did you expect to find yourself in a demon’s home.

And never in your life did you expect that a demon’s home would be a cozy little apartment nestled in the residential district just ten minutes away from your high school.

To be fair, your life is anything but normal, so maybe this falls into the realm of likely possibilities.

That sucks, you suddenly think, because that means there are more things you simply don’t know about–which isn’t new, but it’s never a good thought to dwell on.

You keep your distance as he leads you back to his place. He lives on his own, having forged fake identities for his “parents” and keeping up the guise that they’re busy with work in Tokyo or abroad. It makes sense, but you’re filled with questions to the brim. 

With the main one being, “why?”

He’s back to the human Matsukawa you’ve known for years, the one without horns and red-tinted eyes. 

As he unlocks the door, you hesitate for a moment, suddenly imagining scenarios where you’re being led into a demon’s dungeon, that you’d be tortured and your soul would be offered up to the demon king or whatever higher level demon exists and–

“Are you just going to stand there?”

His deep voice brings you out of your stupor, and you’re embarrassed, gaping at him for his casual response–as if he’s just bringing a friend over to hang out. With a stutter of “no,” you enter, wary of your surroundings.

It’s plain, for the most part. Blank walls with minimal furniture fill the home, and everything is relatively cleaned up as you enter deeper. Matsukawa heads to the kitchen as you walk into the living room that has an untouched loveseat in front of a small TV.

“Tea? Or do you want some water?”

“Water is ok,” you answer him, and you take a seat gingerly, setting your bag down and suddenly feeling awkward.

He brings you a glass, and you thank him quietly, staring at it to see if there was anything amiss in your drink. 

“It’s water,” Matsukawa deadpans at the sight of your intense stare. “I didn’t do anything to it, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’ll get the first aid kit though, and we can clean up your head before we start talking.”

Watching him disappear to what you presume is the bathroom, you look back at the glass of water before taking a sip, which turns into two, and then two more gulps to finish it off.

As you set down the glass, you see Matsukawa return with a small kit and wet cloth, taking a seat next to you before cleaning up your wound. You bite your lip at the stinging sensation, staying still as he finishes up with a bandaid. 

His hand is warm against your forehead, and you try not to let your mind linger on that fact.

“So, where should we start?” you ask, watching him pack up the kit and setting it on the coffee table. He hums, leaning back and throwing an arm over the back of the couch. 

“I can start,” he proposes. “I’m a demon, as you already guessed. Was born, if you could call it that, about the same time you were probably born. I never really liked the idea of stealing human energy solely to grow powerful, so I aged slower and stayed under the radar to avoid getting killed by hunters.”

“And how’d you do that?” you ask, because you have to admit, he did a great job hiding his presence the past three years you’ve known him.

Something was always off about him, ever since the day you met him in your first year, where Hanamaki excitedly introduced you to his new teammates.

“Oh, I’m an incubus,” he says offhandedly. “Most of our kind usually don’t stand out in the first place, and it’s much easier for us to mask our scent and blend in with humans.”

“An…incubus? As in, the demons that…” you trail off, realization hitting you like a truck and it hits harder when you see Matsukawa smile.

“C’mon, you can finish that sentence, you’re a big girl,” Matsukawa teases, and you feel heat rise to your cheeks.

“You gain energy from sex.”

“Bingo.”

It takes your mind a moment to process and remember what you’ve learned about incubi. You haven’t encountered one before, to be honest, and you recall that they, as well as succubi, were the rarer types of demons to exist. 

Most demons didn’t have a developed sense of consciousness, merely driven by their hunger for more energy, to gain more power with no other purpose. 

You’re piecing things together because, yes, it makes sense now how he is so human despite being a demon, how he can retain a human form and not a monstrous blob, and–

“Wait a minute–then, who have you been having sex with–” you shut up the moment the question tumbles out, and Matsukawa laughs again, a deep, hearty laugh that leaves you absolutely humiliated.

“Wow, asking about my sex life already?”

A slap to his arm gets another laugh out of him. You have no doubt he’s enjoying teasing you.

“But, really. It was me and Makki, for a bit,” he says earnestly, and you let out a noise of surprise, but he doesn’t stop there. “No, we didn’t fuck or anything, before you jump to conclusions. We made out and stuff. But lately he’s been talking to that one girl in class 3-B, so we called it off–just a few days ago, actually.”

You feel a headache coming on.

First off, you’re definitely going to Makki and probing him about whatever fling he had with Matsukawa because how dare he not tell you about it. 

Second–

“How are you still so powerful if you’ve been just living off…what you have–no, had with Hiro? What are you going to do now?”

“Well, that’s the thing, little hunter,” he mumbles, leaning back. “I used most of my energy on getting rid of those demons earlier, so I’m exhausted.”

You take a moment to mull over his words, and that’s when you realize how there are dark circles beneath his eyes, which was definitely not there before when he first helped you up.

“And it’s not like I’m going to go out and just go to anyone,” he continues after a moment. “I just want to live my life as normal as I can. ”

Whatever unsettled feeling you had in your stomach before is replaced by guilt. You’ve never…communicated with a demon before, and never did you think that they’d have such honest emotions and desires to be human. 

“You really don’t want to harm anyone?”

“No,” Matsukawa responds, seriously. “I want to keep all of them safe: Makki, Iwaizumi, Oikawa, all of them.”

“You’re a traitor to your own kind.”

“And I’ll continue being one, if it means I can live as normal as I can.”

You stare at him, looking at his hooded, dark eyes to see if there is any hint of deceit. As suspicious as you were of him, you can’t help but believe him. And what would that do, killing a demon who just wanted a normal life, a demon who was also a dear friend to many?

Hiro would be devastated.

“I’m sorry,” you begin, and Matsukawa’s eyes widen, not at all expecting the apology. “All this time, I thought demons were…evil. But if you’re being honest, then who am I to kill you when you’re just trying to live a normal life?”

“Well, I’m glad that we’ve come to a truce,” Matsukawa says. “Thank you. Didn’t think all you hunters were fine with us, but I really do appreciate that you’re letting me live–I have no doubt you could kill me, even now.”

That makes the both of you chuckle, but soon after, a tired sigh escapes Matsukawa, and you see him close his eyes, and you’re suddenly reminded that he exhausted most of his energy saving your ass. 

Perhaps it was obligation, perhaps it was curiosity, but–

Something burns inside you.

The words escape your lips before you can reel them back in, and you’re instantly mortified right as they leave your lips.

“If you need energy, then why not with me?”

You're staring at your hands that are folded on your lap, your entire form tense as you realize what exactly you just offered to him. Silence follows. No laughter, no rejection, no movement.

“Of course, you don’t have to agree–”

“You sure?”

Raising your head to meet his gaze, you’re frozen by the hungry look that he has in his eyes, darkened with an unfamiliar feeling that makes you shiver. You think you see red flash in his eyes.

“I…I owe you for saving me today,” you force out. “And if this helps you maintain your power, then we can maybe… work together to keep everyone safe.”

“I’m asking you again, are you sure?” he says, voice low, making a shiver crawl up your spine as he pushes himself up with his elbow, leaning closer to you.

“I’m sure,” you confirm, swallowing down any hesitation as you face him directly.

He surveys you, closing his eyes and chuckling a bit before he grins, amused.

“Thank you for the meal, little hunter.”

In an instant, he’s next to you, his breath ghosting over your ear, and you jolt in shock and at the sudden heat that runs through your veins. He’s leaning over you, trapping you with his arms and you gulp nervously, letting out a soft noise as his tongue trails along the curve of your ear before he moves further down, licking a stripe up your neck.

“You know, I always thought you were cute,” he mumbles into your skin. “I was surprised when Makki wasn’t into you, but that’s fine, it worked out perfectly in the end.”

His lips latch on, sucking gently, and you moan softly at the foreign touch, absolutely embarrassed at the way he easily makes you melt.

In the midst of warmth, you vaguely feel his large hands trail down your body, before they grasp at your hips and—

“There we go,” Matsukawa praises as he flips you so you’re straddling his lap, your crotch right over his—

“I’ve never done this before,” you blurt out in nervousness, because you most definitely feel his growing bulge through the thin layer of your own underwear. 

“That’s ok. We don’t have to go that far,” Matsukawa answers instantly, calming your nerves just a little. “I can get energy from giving, too. Not just receiving.”

One of his hands finds its place on the back of your head, tangling with your hair as he looks up at you, wanting, hungry.

“May I?”

A small nod is all you can muster.

“Tell me properly, little hunter,” he whispers, and you feel a hot flush crawl up your neck.

“Yes, I… kiss me, please,” you mumble out quietly, looking away, and he chuckles.

“As you wish.”

The hand behind your head presses down softly, leading you so your lips are just mere centimeters away from his before he closes that distance.

Soft.

His lips are so soft against yours, his warmth enveloping yours and you hold your breath, clumsy, unfamiliar with this dance. If he notices your inexperience, he makes no comment on it, looking up at you with hooded eyes and licking his lips as he leans back.

“Not so bad, right?”

An affirmative hum escapes you as a pleasant feeling tingles along your skin and further down, and the feelings of embarrassment fade away, replaced with your desires for more.

When you open your eyes, you immediately find yourself looking back at red ones, and you watch as his horns appear from the curls of his  hair once more. Upon closer look, they're sleek black, equal ridges traveling up to the very tip that curls slightly. 

His lips curve into a smirk that makes you feel smaller, but another part of you wants to wipe that smug look off his face so you lean back in, crashing your lips onto his with a sudden feeling of confidence that surges through you.

You jolt from the sudden feeling of his tongue as it teases your own, and you have to prevent every ounce of your demon hunter instincts from biting it as he explores your mouth.

You focus on Matsukawa, his lips, his hair under your fingers, his hands on your waist, his bulge pressing up against your wet sex.

Fuck , his tongue swipes against yours and you falter, leaning forward when he backs away, a satisfied quirk of the lips. His hand trails to cup your cheek, dipping his thumb into your open, waiting mouth, and you swirl your tongue around.

“Ah, I forgot to mention my spit has some…aphrodisiac properties. But you seem to be enjoying it.”

Your head is fuzzy, eyes glazed as a string of saliva connects you with his thumb as he pulls it away from your mouth. You’re too gone to care about your pride, and the pleasant buzz you feel blurs all your morals.

You don’t even realize that you’re moving your hips, grinding against his growing bulge that makes you nervous and…

Excited.

Something flares inside your chest at the realization.

You don’t know how long it lasts, your tongue dancing with his, hands roaming, exploring everything he had to offer you and you for him. It’s dark by the time he finally pulls away, gently tugging you off his lap as a string of saliva connects your lips to his.

“Thank you,” he says your name, making you whimper, leaning forward to chase after his lips. “You’ve done more than enough for me today. I look forward to working with you, little hunter.”

He licks his lips, and with the little reasoning left in your head, you can’t help but realize how you’re absolutely under his spell.

–

The next few days are strange.

Strange in that, you notice Matsukawa more than usual. On occasion, you would see him with Hanamaki as he greets you when lunch period starts, or when he gets out of volleyball practice with everyone. 

Although, something changes after that particular day and you see him in passing as you eat lunch with your classmates, when you head to the restroom, or even when you take some papers to the teacher’s office. He’s just always somewhere in your peripheral vision, intentional or not, as if watching over you from a distance.

Hell, you make eye contact with him where he’s seated out in the courtyard with the other boys and you just so happen to look outside for a brief moment while you’re on cleaning duty.

When he smirks up at you with a wink, you feel warmth spread across your cheeks, suddenly reminded of…

All the events of that day rewind in your head within the span of ten seconds and you grip your broom tighter.

That fucking demon.

Your classmates ask what has you so flustered and you can only sigh and rub at your cheeks, hoping to wipe away the brightening red.

You hope they don’t notice how you squeeze your thighs together ever so slightly.

It doesn’t help that as the next few weeks go by, even your childhood friend notices your not-so-subtle change, and unfiltered as he is, he immediately jumps on it.

“So, you and Mattsun, huh?”

“What?”

You raise an eyebrow at his suggestive tone, and he takes it as a sign to continue, waving around his milk carton.

“Don’t pretend– you and him have been talking more, out of the blue too! And he’s not very discrete, I saw him looking at you a few times,” he mock-whispers to you. “Did something happen? Should I be happy? Or maybe even worried?”

“Neither,” you grumble, because Hanamaki most definitely misunderstands the entire situation but you can’t exactly clear it up. “We just started talking ever since we bumped into each other a few days ago. There’s nothing more.”

“Hm.” He’s looking at you with his usual stare, and you don’t even look up from the worksheet. “If you say so. I’m glad you guys are getting along better.”

You look up to meet Hanamaki’s gaze, but from the corner of your eye, you see Matsukawa chatting with some other students in the hallway, locking eyes with you before sending you a knowing smile.

Getting along is one way to put it, that’s for sure.

Just a few hours after that conversation with Hiro, you find yourself pushed up against the wall of the boy’s volleyball club room, moaning softly as he peppers open-mouthed kisses down your neck and grinds his thigh up against your sex.

“Ah–Don’t you dare leave any marks,” you gasp, shamelessly moving your hips for more friction against him.

“Or else what?”

His teasing voice has you throwing your head back, and the trails of his saliva burn deliciously along your neck. Matsukawa’s hands trail up your waist before they cup your tits, squeezing playfully.

You have no retort for him, opting to quiet down – practice is soon, and he has dragged you into the lesser-used clubroom to “recharge.” There’s a chance that anyone from the team could come in, knowing your terrible luck, and the thought makes you both humiliated and excited, to your horror.

 “Just a little more,” he mumbles into your skin, and you’re lost in his dance, brain turning to mush as heat overwhelms you. You’re half frustrated as Mattsun refuses to go any further, edging you on and bringing you so close to your peak before pulling away.

He lets you go, letting you stand on your feet before leading you towards one of the plastic chairs, sitting, before tugging on your waist so you sit in his lap, back against his chest.

“What are you—”

“Shh, not too loud,” he whispers, licking at the shell of your ear before nibbling at it, as his hands unbutton your blouse. You don’t even stop him, grasping at his forearms as you feel the fabric of your shirt pull away.

“Open your eyes.”

You don’t even realize you have closed them. You crack open your eyes, as he commands, and you see yourself through the full-length mirror that’s hung near the empty lockers. Your blouse is opened, revealing your bra, and one of his hands is lifting up your skirt, legs spread and revealing the soaked patch through your panties as they rub against his bulge.

“Such a cute little slut, don’t you think?” 

Locking your eyes with his through the reflection, you turn red at the sight of his smirk, and when his tongue darts out to lick the shell of your ear, you throw your head further back, shivering under his touch. A hand travels up your torso, and you squirm at the ticklish feeling, before letting out a choked moan as soon as he cups one of your tits, squeezing playfully, before pushing your bra up with his hand. His finger teases your nipple, pinching it gently and eliciting more muffled moans out of your pretty lips.

His hips grind up to match your own movements, and he hums, his hand on your hip trailing down to your clothed sex, rubbing small circles at your clit. It makes your hips jolt, shaking as they try to match his pace and he lets out a chuckle against your ear.

“Wait–I’m–”

“Go ahead, cum.” His low whisper tips you over the edge, heat bursting in your gut as you cum against his fingers. The fuzz of your orgasm fills your brain and you’re boneless against Mattsun, who lifts his fingers to his mouth, and you hear him suck on them.

He sits you down on one of the chairs before he fixes his uniform, and you’re sitting there, dazed, the scent of Matsukawa lingering in your nose, his taste still upon your tongue.

More, more, more.

Matsukawa looks back at you, a satisfied smile on his lips.

“Practice is starting so you won’t have to worry about anyone coming in anytime soon. I’ll meet you after?”

You hum, not trusting your words to come out. He grins, leaning down to peck your lips one last time.

“Good girl.”

A promise is a promise, but you don’t know how you can keep going with his teases. 

That fucking demon.

–

For the most part, the doubled power makes your patrols much easier, and you feel better about going out without pushing yourself to the edge. Matsukawa’s powers aren’t the strongest, objectively speaking, but the extra hand and cooperation makes your strength combined something to fear. The areas that you’ve left to simmer and grow are much more maintained, and you’re able to make good progress that even the priest comments on when you visit him occasionally.

Of course, you don’t tell him about your partnership. You’re not sure if it would be received well, and you’re not willing to take that leap.

It continues like this for awhile, and you can finally catch up on sleep, even getting a thumbs-up of approval from Hanamaki when he sees you more lively than usual.

But…

There’s something darker in the air today. 

It had been a few weeks since you’d nearly met your end. Most areas have lightened up in terms of activity, but for some reason, you feel a chill in your bones that makes you uneasy all day. Matsukawa must have also felt it, glancing at you with worry in his brow.

It’s overcast, and you smell the incoming rain as you tug on your coat, pulling the hood over your eyes as you walk past some high schoolers heading home. Matsukawa is unbothered, merely looking over and nodding to them as they pass.

Practice was canceled a little earlier than usual, so you decided to take an alternate route that goes a bit further from your usual patrol while it was still evening. Rain begins to fall, splattering on the pavement at your feet, and you sigh annoyed. Mattsun breathes out of his nose, a soft exhale as he looks up to the sky. Suddenly–

He stops, whirling around to face the end of the street you two are crossing.

“Get ready.”

“What?”

Your question is answered too soon.

Something crashes, and you jump in surprise, losing your balance as the ground trembles beneath you. Matsukawa catches you, holding you steady, eyes glued to the particles that center together at the end of the street, forming together into a dark blob and taking shape.

It’s downright ugly and terrifying, exuding such malice and rage that has you stepping back. The demons you’ve dealt with before are absolute small fry compared to his massive size and aura. 

“What is that?” you shout over its screeching and Matsukawa grimaces.

“A goliath,” he says, a little too calm in your opinion. “Said to be servants of the underworld, or something. I think they consume other small demons, just for energy.”

It roars, a large arm protruding from its back and you recoil in disgust. It is, by far, the largest demon you’ve encountered up until now, and you have no doubt it’s the strongest.

“Ok, well, what the hell is it doing here?” you yell at Matsukawa, who jumps back at the sudden tremor it emits.

“No idea!” he shouts back at you. “Be careful!”

There’s not much room for you and Matsukawa to fight–the street is narrow, and the beast in front of you nearly takes up the whole width. You keep your distance, making sure you’re not in its reach as you launch a few talismans toward it, maneuvering them so they cover its body. Matsukawa approaches it, launching his own attacks as he weaves between each swing of its ugly limbs.

It’s slower than you imagined, and you think as long as you keep your distance, it should be fine–

Dark static flicks off its skin before it explodes in an instant, shooting uncontrollably before it bursts wildly, covering the ground and traveling towards you.

“Watch out!”

You’re shoved to the ground, watching a strike pierce through Matsukawa, in midair as he jumps right where you were.

“Matsukawa”

You see him go down, blood splattering against the asphalt with a sickening sound as his body hits the pavement, hard. Anger fills you with red, and you cast most of your talismans towards the demon, binding it tightly with your power as it screams. It’s stunned for a moment, disoriented as it recovers, but you take the time to run towards Matsukawa, who’s struggling to get up onto his knees, blood dripping from his torso, washing away on the asphalt with the rain.

“Let’s get you out of the way,” you say hurriedly, throwing his arm over your shoulders and dragging him to an alleyway. “Don’t move, you’ll open your wound up.”

As soon as you set him down, the demon screeches, an ear-piercing sound that makes both of you falter. 

Demons aren’t perfect. They’ll die with enough damage, and you do so, dwindling down their health with continued attacks, moving constantly to avoid its electricity. 

Left, right, under–jump!

You can barely catch your breath as you dodge its movements, careful of where you end up. A screech erupts from its head, piercing your ears, and you take the moment to send more binding charms, tying its limbs together and buying you time .

It struggles, and just as you’re about to blast it with more of your attacks–

A large burst of energy shoots at him from behind you, slicing the goliath’s head off with a clean schuck!

It thuds to the ground, lifelessly, and you’re gasping for air, falling on your ass as it rolls just a few feet away from you.

Matsukawa is peeking around the corner of the alleyway, leaning against the wall as he sends out that last burst of power before he’s sliding down, falling against the brick wall. Without hesitation, you hurry over to him, nearly tripping over your own unsteady feet as you crouch beside him.

Blood spreads across his clothes, a pool of red that makes your hands shake because it’s just so much blood, demon or not. Your eyes flicker up to his, dull and unfocused as they glance up at you.

You tug up his shirt, trying hard to ignore him flinching out of pain to see a deep gash across his stomach, one that curled around his torso, and you have no doubt it probably pierced through him.

The first thing your mind goes to is—

You smash your lips on his.

You taste copper.

He yelps a little at the sudden force, and you cup his cold cheeks with your hands, kissing him deeply. 

There’s not an ounce of shame because you’re saving his goddamn life right now . He’s quick to respond, kissing back and groaning against your lips, and in a few moments, his wound is gradually closing up, his blood-coated skin patching itself together. 

When you back away, he winces, looking down at his wound, blood and spit smudged against his lips, and you have no doubt that you look the same. 

Shit , you think to yourself, feeling a wave of warmth hit you suddenly. And it’s different today because you just want more for once. Perhaps it’s the adrenaline, perhaps it’s because you almost lost him. You’re tired of constantly being edged by him, when you know he could give you so much more, that you could give him so much more.

“Your place is close, let’s get out of the rain.”

Curse Matsukawa for his height. He easily towers over you, and it makes it ten times harder for you to properly support him as he leans against you, his arm thrown over your shoulders as you weave through back alleys, slowly making your way to his apartment. It doesn’t help that the rain hasn’t let up, drenching both of you.

He’s lost a lot of blood, and you’ve been trying to keep him conscious with little success, as he keeps blinking in and out. By the time you’re at his front door, he’s awake enough to dig through his pockets and give you the key with a shaky hand.

There’s blood on it, and you wipe it away with your thumb as you jam it into the keyhole, quickly twisting and opening the door, stepping into the hallway and navigating to his room. 

You kick open his door, feeling your strength falter at the sight of his bed and with one last burst, you unceremoniously drop him on top of his covers. He lets out a grunt and laughs a bit under his breath.

“How romantic,” he chokes out, and he rolls onto his back painfully, groaning as he twists his body, mindful of his healing wound.

“Shut up,” you mutter, taking off your coat and kicking off your shoes, slamming the door closed after a moment. Taking in a breath, you steel yourself before you lean on the bed, one knee first, before you swing your leg over his, straddling his lap. 

Without any warning, you lean in, kissing him, grinding your hips down on his. You moan against his mouth and–

“Let’s do it, this time, c’mon,” you moan out impatiently, nipping at Matsukawa’s neck as he grabs your hips, tight enough you’re sure you’ll be bruised by the end of it.

“You sure?” he asks softly, lacking his usual teasing lilt, and you nod.

“I’m sure,” you reassure him, looking him dead in the eye, watching as his horns grow out. “I’m saving your life and I’ve wanted to do this with you for a long time. I think it’s a win for both of us.”

He grins, pained, but absolutely ecstatic, as if he’s won the lottery.

“You’re telling me we could have done this earlier?”

“Stop talking and we can get right to it, you dumbass.”

And you can’t stop the curse that leaves your mouth when he flips you over, trapping you under his arms. He tugs off your shirt and your pants, kissing you before you reach up to return the favor. His torso is red, but there’s no longer open flesh that makes you sigh in relief.

At the sight of you bare to him, he leans back, admiring the view and whistling as his eyes trail down your body. 

“Can’t believe I went slow with you when you’ve wanted this too,” he comments, leaning to press kisses against the inside of your thigh before he leaves a long kiss on a spot and bites hard . You yelp at the sudden pain, gripping at his hair as he licks his new mark, thighs trembling as he continues to mark you up.

His fingers reach up, hooking under your panties before—

Rip!

“Hey!”

“I’ll buy you new ones,” he says, uninterested, eyes locked onto your cunt instead. “You’re so fucking wet—and all for me.”

He swipes a finger up your leaking pussy, earning a yelp from you and he brings it to his lips, sucking on it

“Sweet,” he whispers. “Didn’t think you’d taste so good, and it’s all mine .” He leans down, spitting on your cunt before licking a long stripe at your folds as you keen, your hands once again finding purchase in his wet hair, tugging at his curls as he makes a mess of you. Your back arches as his tongue flicks at your clit, swirling around it before thrusting in, wanting to taste all of you. His fingers make their way beside their tongue, and he’s pleasantly surprised with how you take one, two fingers, then three as you sing so beautifully.

Your eyes are glazed over, purely lost in pleasure and everything is so hot and you just want his cock so bad and—

It’s coming it’s coming I’m coming—

“Issei!” 

The cry of his name makes him smile against you, as you're suddenly hit with a mind-numbing orgasm, back arching and body trembling against his mouth as he continues to coax more you have to offer him. Coming down from your high, you’re far from satiated, still feeling the wanting burn deep in your gut. 

You don’t notice him taking off the rest of his clothes until you feel him press up against you. He pushes up your legs, your thighs pressing against your stomach as he leans close and folds you to his will. 

He’s huge, you realize, and you’re not sure if he’ll fit, feeling its weight as the head of his cock kisses your pussy. You jerk at the feeling of him rubbing his length against your wet folds, his eyes trained on the way his cock glistens against your wet cunt, slapping it once, twice against it. 

As if reading your mind, he offers a reassuring smile, squeezing your thigh.

“Tell me if you need me to go slower,” he says. “Last thing I want to do is hurt you.”

You nod deliriously, moving your hips and rubbing against his length, urging him to hurry up. He finally obliges, pushing in slowly, and you let out a broken moan, clawing at his arms as he groans, sinking into your heat inch by inch.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he grunts, and he listens to your breathing, waiting for any indication of pain before he keeps going until he bottoms out, hips flush against your ass. 

You’re just big, you want to retort, but you can’t even form words, choking on your spit as you feel so full, turning lightheaded at the feeling of his cock stretching you out wide. He’s holding back, biting his lip and a furrow in his brow as he lets you adjust, barely able to control himself. 

He’s careful, his calculating gaze roaming over your face as you focus on leveling your breathing, letting yourself relax before–

“Issei,” you moan, “Move, move. ”

He wastes no time, starting slow and experimentally he moves his hips, pulling out of you until the tip of his cock is inside you before he snaps his hips, making you scream as he buries himself to the hilt once more. The bed frame creaks with each thrust, and you whimper, his cock reaching depths that even you weren’t aware of, your walls fluttering around him.

You chant his name, lost in pleasure and Issei knows you’re long gone, completely undone by his cock and his punishing rhythm. He shifts, leaning down to swallow up your moans, tasting you, relishing in your sweet, sweet flavor as you cross your legs behind his back, bringing him closer, deeper inside. 

“Let me cum in you,” he grunts out, not slowing down as his dark eyes stare at you and you feel as if he’ll devour you. “Make a contract with me, I’ll be yours, little hunter, just say the word, and I’ll give you my all.”

“Please!” You cry out, nails digging into his back as you hold on for dear life. “Cum inside, I’m yours, I’m yours—“

Your words flow out of you as the knot in your stomach builds quicker as Issei’s unrelenting pace seemingly gets faster and faster. 

“Issei, ‘sei, please, please more—faster!”

“Fuck!” he curses, feeling you tighten up around him. “Gonna cum inside your pretty fucking pussy—”

He pushes as far as he can inside you before he stills, moaning against your shoulder as you feel yourself reach your peak, clenching around his cock. 

Something warm burns in your abdomen, and you look down dazedly, seeing Issei’s cock buried deep inside you and a strange symbol etched on your skin, just below your belly button. Your hazy mind barely registers the shape, feeling it tingle along your skin.

You feel yourself twitch as he pulls out, a small moan escaping you as you feel his cum leak out of you. He collapses beside you, absolutely spent, and you turn to look at him, brushing a hand through his messy hair.

“Are you ok?”

“Now I am. Thank you, master .”

“Wha– What do you mean?” you ask, flustered, and he laughs, grabbing your hand against his cheek and squeezing it before he trails down to your stomach. His thumb brushes over the mark, and he opens his mouth, sticking out his tongue for you and the same mark is drawn on it.

A contract. 

“I’m your familiar now. So, please, treat me well,” he says your name, voice deep with want. The coil in your gut tightens, and you meet his red-eyed gaze. His lips meet yours, and you yelp when his fingers find your tit, pinching lightly. “I’ll treat you well, too.” 

[zayndrivesmeinvain]

The One That Got Away - Part 3

A.N. - Part 3 is finally here! I apologize for the delayed upload but unfortunately work and life got in the way of things but I'm hoping to create a consistent posting schedule soon!

Pairing: Single Dad Harry Styles

Summary: Alena finallys gets a night out on the town with her friends, but will it go as planned or will surprises and feelings arise?

Word Count: 3.1K

*********************************************************************

Alena 

- 

“Fine, I’ll come.” my phone has been buzzing non stop. 

This weekend's one of the first weekends that I am going out in a long time. I typically use my weekends to catch up on chores or run errands since Harry typically has Aria for the weekends, but this weekend my friend’s convinced me to come out with them and have a girls weekend. We’ve all been preoccupied with life and what better way they thought to come together and go out and have some fun. 

I’m not much of a partier if I do say so myself, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t indulge in it ever - back when I was younger, the weekend parties were something I looked forward to - the drinking, the music, the friends, the games, the angst - EVERYTHING. However, that was short lived because by the time I was just at that age to drink and do things legally, I was blessed with my baby girl and responsibilities and motherhood took precedence over the weekend parties. 

“Yay! Alena’s hitting the town.” My friend Molly was on the other end of the Facetime call laying on her bed with a face mask on. 

“Ugh, I don’t even know what to wear though - I’m sure anything I have probably doesn’t fit anyways.” I was rummaging through my closet which is 90% of lounge wear, 10% of business casual clothes in which I recycle once a week to wear to work. “I don’t even own half of my wardrobe before Aria, Mol.” my voice probably sounded defeated but I am trying to stay hopeful for my friend because I know she’s looking forward to this outing of ours. 

“Lena, come on! You have to have something hot and flirty in that closet of yours - I know you do!” Molly’s a long-time friend of mine - she’s been around through the thick & thin of mine, however, our lives are the complete opposite end of the spectrum. Where I am on mommy duty 90% of the time, she is out free and living her life. She is a radiologist at our local hospital and due to her schedule, she has just enough time and energy to have a great balance of work and play. I truly believe that she is the one that keeps me young. 

“Do you think leggings and a baggy sweat-shirt are acceptable for dinner and bar and club hopping?” I flashy a cheek smile across my Facetime screen and Molly gives me the biggest eye-roll. “Lena, if you’re not at least wearing something that’s tight tonight, I am going to beat your ass sensely.” Molly makes her way to her bathroom and takes her phone with her. “Lena, stop acting like a mom for once and be free - shake your ass and show your tits off! Maybe even make-out with a guy - honestly when was even the last time you got fucked?” Molly places her phone down just in time for me to flash her my middle finger. 

“ Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t know getting fucked was supposed to be on the agenda while also picking my daughter up from school, providing for her and basically making sure she doesn’t die.” I shut my closet door and make my way to my kitchen because I’m starting to get a little hungry and a snack doesn’t sound too bad right now. 

“Lena, I love you but step out of the mom role, even for one night - you are still allowed to have your own personality and be your own person, I promise you, you going out for one night will not make Aria love you any less. Plus, who doesn’t love a sexy milf.” Molly has a way with words, that’s for sure. 

“Plus, word around town is that your baby daddy has been seeing someone. Don’t you think it’s time for maybe you to get out there a little bit and meet a few people that could even be remotely interested in you?” Molly’s words sting a little, but I’m not sure if it's because she brings up Harry seeing some or if it’s because it's the “word around town” and I feel somewhat protective of his privacy and his business because he’s the father of my child.

“Yeah, I already knew that.” I take a bite of my toast. “He asked me the other day if it’s okay to introduce Aria to her - from the sounds of it they seem to be getting serious. I’ve been talking to Anne a little bit and she tells me that he seems to be happy and gets this - he hasn’t been seeing anyone else.” 

“I’m sorry - you’re telling me that he asked for your permission to introduce Aria to his girlfriend and you agreed?” Molly seems to be severely taken back, her face  expression if not her tone says it all. 

“Yeahhh… why wouldn’t I be? He is Aria’s father and I am trusting his judgment, so if he thinks it was the right call - then it was the right call - point, blank, period.”  

Truth is, it did and still does bother me that he wants to introduce Aria to someone he is seeing. What if she likes her better than me? What if she grows attached to her? What if she starts calling her mom down the line? The thought of Aria calling someone else mom makes my stomach queasy, however, I can’t worry about the “what ifs” and just hope and pray that she isn’t mean to my baby girl. 

Harry’s and I’s relationship is complex, on the one hand I want him to be happy and find someone but on the other hand I want someone to hurt him the way he hurt me so he can truly understand what it feels like to put your absolute all into someone, just for them to take - stomp on it and give it back to you in bits and pieces and I truly believe if it weren’t for Aria, I would have stopped all communication with Harry Styles years ago.

-

The rest of my day consisted of cleaning up my house, working on organizing and cleaning out my fridge and finally deciding on outfit for later on tonight. I even had some time to get a home-work out in. I guess just subconsciously knowing that I am going to be wearing something tight tonight makes me feel as though an hour work-out is going to give me my pre-baby body back but I know it's just a ploy to make myself feel better. 

While rummaging through my closet I was able to find a tight body-con midi dress that I wore once and apparently still fits - however, when I say this dress is tight - it is tight. The last time I had worn this dress was right when I was just about 3 months pregnant with Aria and I had more than enough room in this dress to hide my little bump, but now, I am fuller in places I wasn’t before. For starters, my breast feel as though they are up to my chin at the moment and my ass has probably doubled in size since I last wore this dress, but this dress seems to be the best and if not only option I have that can be worn tonight because Molly made it very clear that I was not to dress for comfort tonight. 

- 

“Alena, holy fuck you look hot.” I have just arrived at Molly’s apartment where our other two friends are as well. Molly is dressed in a cute spaghetti strap mini dress and has paired it with sparkly pumps, my feet just hurt looking at the height of them. 

“You don’t have to exaggerate Mol, I’m still coming out with you.” a chuckle escapes my lips as I make my way into Molly's apartment. I know her reaction was genuine but I also am not privy to the fact that she’s trying to boost my confidence a bit as well. 

“Oh I know you’re still coming out - I would actually drag you out of your house if you tried pulling a fast one on me!” Mol’s slightly intoxicated but her genuine personality and sassy attitude is still peaking through which I absolutely adore her. 

My other two friends Vanessa and Maria are just right around the corner making some cocktails as I make my way further through Molly’s apartment. It’s a beautiful apartment, two beds, two baths with a spacious open floor plan and a beautiful view of the city skyline. Her apartment is decorated mostly with whites and grays with a hint of pink throughout used as her accent color which matches with her personality graciously, she's one of the girliest of girls there is. 

-

The four of us mingle for about another hour as we get a few cocktails in and catch up on life before the actual night begins. Throughout the last hour, the biggest thing I have realized is that all of our lives are so different but the biggest difference between my friends is that I am a parent and they are not. Where they worry about whether or not they will be able to get up in the morning because they stayed out all night and drank - I have to worry about whether or not my daughter has everything prepared for school the next day on top of getting myself ready for work. By no means is this a complaint, but it does make me wonder what my life would be like if I was just out on my own? What if I too didn’t have another human to be responsible for? 

-

The night was definitely still young - but the night life was out. We’ve been waiting in life to get into the first club and we’re just now getting close to the front. The night was warm but definitely had a beautiful breeze which made the wait outside to get in not so bad. My three friends and I are slightly tipsy from the few shots that we had back at Molly’s place and right as we got dropped off by the Uber we shared a blunt - you could say I was high on life right now and just riding the wave. 

My phone buzzed in my pocket and it was a text from Harry. He sent me a snapshot of Aria sleeping in her bed at his house in Anne’s arms. I replied back with a little red heart and slipped my phone back in my purse. I promised myself that tonight I was not worrying about anyone else but myself - it’s time for me to be a bit selfish for once. 

“ Hey there pretty lady, can I see your ID please?” 

I pull my I.D. to show to the bouncer and he gives me a quick nod informing me that I was able to go in. He was a tall man with a broad build and dark features, he was pretty sexy if I do say so myself. He was filled with tattoos from the neck down it seems like which is such a turn on. I hope I get to see him later on tonight. 

“ Okay ladies, let the night begin!” We interlock hands and make our way into the nightlife - I feel like a teenager all over again, just me and my girls and no worries in the world, no responsibilities, no care! 

The night club is gorgeous, it definitely one of the more popular clubs in our area, and what is even better is that all the people here seem to be around our age or even slightly a bit older, many eligible bachelors seem to be out on the town as well. 

“Let’s grab drinks!” I yell out at my friends as the music is beyond loud and has the club thumping. 

We make our way over to the bar and we spot an opening close toward the end of the bar, where it seems to be empty. We make our way over there and take a seat, waving over to the bartender signaling that we would like to order. 

She’s a petite girl, with gorgeous blue eyes and short blonde hair that hits just at her shoulders. 

“What can I get you to drink, babes?” 

“Can my friends and I get a round of tequila shots please?” she flashes me a quick smile and a nod, a minute or two later she brings the shots over to us but mentions that they were paid for. Before I can even ask who, I spot the bouncer from the door staring in my direction. 

“Ouu, looks like someone is interested in you, Lena.” 

“He probably does that to a lot of girls, I’ll thank him later.” I wanted to play it cool but the simple gesture has me melting inside a bit. 

-

The night was absolute perfection, the music was perfect and our bodies were moving - I truly haven’t had this much fun in such a long time. My feet were starting to hurt but I was not stopping anytime soon - my friends and I were truly enjoying ourselves. Molly has run off to the corner of the club with some guy that came up to her to dance - he’s a nice looking guy, dirty blonde hair and green eyes. From what I could gather, his name’s Alex and he’s in finance. He seems enough from what I can tell but I wasn’t going to become too invested in learning too much about him, because from what I can tell - this will be a quick hook-up and probably won’t proceed for much more after the night. 

Vanessa, Maria and I make our way over to the bar again for another round of drinks when I feel a hand grip my shoulder. 

“ I wanted to formally introduce myself - my name’s Tommy.” the same bouncer who asked for my I.D. as well as the one who paid for our first round of drinks came up to introduce himself. His smile was cheeky but inviting, seeing him up close again definitely has my stomach in a knot. 

“And I wanted to formally thank you for the drinks, I’m Alena.” I put my hand out for him to shake it, and his grip is stronger than I could have ever imagined. 

“ A pretty name for a pretty girl - would you like to take a seat? I have about a 30 minute break before I have to get back to my shift.” 

“I think I could spare 30 minutes of my time.” I look over to my friends and they are both giving me a nod of approval, I can not wait to tell Molly about this later. 

Tommy leads me away from the bar, to a more secluded and a bit quieter section of the club. The seats back here seem to be more for dining, but the atmosphere and aesthetic isn't much different than the main area. It looks like he had some food pre-ordered and delivered to the table back here. The table has a single lit candle on it with two drinks, an cheese burger cut in a half with a side of fries, and a side order of onion rings. 

“Do you bring all of your muses back here?” I take a seat at the booth and Tommy sits across from me. He’s even more handsome under this light. 

“No, just the pretty one that caught my eyes tonight.” His smile makes him even more likable. 

“Oh, is that so? When will she be joining us?” a chuckle escaped his lips as he was taking a sip of his drink. 

“ A girl with a sense of humor, I like it.” 

I was feeling a bit proud of myself - I don’t normally get this social with a guy after just meeting him, but I think the alcohol is still lingering in my body and I am feeling good tonight. I feel confident, sexy and empowered and no one can take that away from me. The conversations are light, mostly just fun-facts about ourselves and how we occupy our time when we aren’t here on a random Saturday night. I find out that he works as a fire-fighter and works here to fill his time and his weekends and he gets a more steady schedule. From what I can gather from our 30-minute conversation, and quick dinner, he seems like a genuine guy that I would be intrigued in getting to know, however, I am still going to be very cautious in getting to know him. We have similar interests in music and movies and we both seem to be more introverted than anything, even though he works at a nightclub. 

“Unfortunately, my break time is now just over and I have to move upstairs to the lounge for the second half of my shift, but I’d like to take you out on a proper date sometime if that's okay?” The thought of going out on a proper date makes my heart skip a beat, but he can’t know that just yet. 

“Yeah, I’d like that, Tommy.” I ask for his phone and place my number in it, and save it as “Alena” as that is my name, but it’s up to him if he would like to change it to something else later on. 

As Tommy walks me back into the main area of the club before he goes off to the second part of his shift, he looks down and leaves a kiss on my lips. It wasn’t the most romantic kiss I've ever had but it definitely left a mark. 

“I’ll see you later, pretty girl.” 

- 

When walking back into the main area of the club, I was not expecting to see who I was currently staring at. There he was, 6 foot tall stature, curly brown hair and emerald green eyes - they looked sad. However, I couldn’t focus on that because if he was here, then where is our daughter? 

“Harry, where the hell is Aria?”

Tagged List: @gurugirl @wittlecritter @kathb59 @betchyharry @styles1999 @indierockgirrl @kittenhere

@neenaanetanya

[fuck-customers]

Holy shit, today was wild.

So after our previous general manager left, O came in as a temporary replacement. I’m not sure if he’s staying on as permanent at this point or what; idk if anyone knows. For some reason, not all of his managerial privileges (idk if that’s the right word) are working in the system. So like he can’t make schedules and whatever other stuff it is that managers do (I’m just a cashier I have no clue). S, the highest up assistant manager (idk if that’s actually a thing but there’s always been one at our store), decides to do O a favor and make the schedules until things get sorted out. O’s been here around two months, with S still doing the schedule and other duties that O should be doing all the while—with O being paid the general manager’s wages and S getting paid his regular wages—and like at this point idk if O just has decided he’s fine with having S do the heavy lifting or if our company is just having some wild issue that can’t get this system error with his account fixed.

Our last person who worked print on weekends left, leaving us scrambling on the weekends. Finally, we get a new guy who’s gonna take the weekends. Store opens, and the guy doesn’t show up (apparently he misremembered/misread his schedule and ended up coming in an hour or two late). So I’m at the register, assistant manager K is at shipping, and S is at print. All S and K know how to do with print is give people stuff they’ve already ordered, and I know jack and shit about print so I’m staying over in my corner. A woman comes in, and she got her order yesterday, but it’s the wrong size. She’s upset and is on a deadline and needs the right size ASAP. S says he can give her a refund and transfer her order to a nearby store, and we’re all apologizing coz yeah that’s definitely a rough situation. 

Idk exactly what happens next, but more customers start coming in and going towards print after a while, with that first woman still there. S is getting overwhelmed, so he calls O and asks for his advice. O tells him that this is all his fault, and that it’s his responsibility to make the schedules and make sure that there is someone at every station. So S just leaves the print station, tells us he’s done for the day, and goes into the manager’s office (which is basically his office at this point because—as we’ve established—he’s doing everything O should be doing), leaving K and I kinda freaking out as we try to figure out what to do. At one point K even goes into the office and starts arguing and yelling at S (K’s super chill and I’ve never heard him yell before).

Eventually S cools off. Between O and that first customer (who I heard another customer refer to as “the devil” on her way out when talking to her husband), he just couldn’t put up with all that shit. S is a very calm and nice guy. When I found out there’d been an error on my part that meant I’d been getting paid for my lunch breaks for a YEAR (this was between the previous GM leaving and O arriving), S told me that it was okay because I’m worth it and now I know what happened I can make sure it won’t happen again.

I’m good friends with another assistant manager, and she received a text from O that we think was meant for S saying that he’s a leader and needs to learn to take responsibility and own up and whatnot. To top it all off, my friend also shows me a text O sent in the manager group chat:

“To be an effective leader, you have to be a really good listener and not to what's being said, but to what's not being said. You have to be really observant. That was a big transition for me.” — Kobe Bryant

S is still working here, but any GM duties are now O’s problem. He’s done with doing him favors.

Posted by admin Rodney.

[thefourthwifeoftengenuzui]

I saw that your requests were open so I was wondering if you could do Asahi x reader? Maybe relationship headcannons? You can have creative liberty with everything else though.

Thank you ^^

ofc Anon, happy to help ya out! This is my first time writing for Asahi, but honestly it should be pretty easy, because I’m an asahi Kinnie. Love y’all sm, if you liked this, make sure to like, follow, and if you curios, just ask

warnings: Swearing, crack, fluff? Mentions of vagina? Has one section implying a AFAB reader, but is only one paragraph. If you aren’t a pussy owner, pretend it’s a papercut it literally the same results. I tried to make it as gender neutral as possible.

status: edited, but at like 3am so read at your own risk

💜Asahi Azumane💜

💜Boyfriend Headcannons💜

First things first, Man is so freaking shy. Like goodness, he wouldn’t be able to talk to you when he has a crush on you. So, if you want results, you have to A) Be confident, and B) be in a place he’s comfortable interacting in. Like at volleyball practice (Gia- Joden shut your ass up, your AsaNoya is showing.) So, for this let’s just imagine you’re a second year, helping Kiyoko manage the team. Yeah that sounds a lil familiar but shhhhhhhhh, let me have this.

Once we get over the hurdle of him actually asking you out (AKA Tanaka bullying him into doing with some, if you don’t do it, I will,) Be gotta be the biggest sweetie ever. Like I’m used to writing for assholes, but I physically cannot with this man, this pure sweet chipotle bowl of a man. The most shit I can say is that he’s a pussy.

Please. For the love of God (Gia- You called?) Play with his hair. He will literally melt like butter into a blushy slushy mess it’s so freaking adorable.

The literal epitome of pit bull energy. Like so freaking terrifying on the outside but inside? Literally the softest thing since Japanese pancakes. And because of this, mfs be terrified to talk to you. Like even if he’s so polite, things don’t change. What he says- “Hi, I’m sure you didn’t know, but that’s my partner , and it looks like you’re making them very uncomfortable, could you please leave them alone.? Thank you! 🌸☺️🌸” What people hear- “Aye yo, what ya doing with my girl buddy? You tryna start something, I’ll fucking kick your ass *insert Tanaka face*”. Yeah, it’s a common occurrence for people to tell you to blink twice if you need help.

Even though he’s canonically not planning on going to college, he’s still above average in school work. Not really in terms of analysis and problem solving, so his best subjects are stuff he can just memorize like science or History. If you happen to be weak in either of those, he would be more than happy to help after practice or during weekends. He’s super patient with you and often suggests snack breaks and other things whenever it gets to much. (Because of that he’s also really good at helping you through panic attacks, more on that if I do a part 2.)

In terms of cringe, the cringiest thing y’all do would be like seriously basic couples costumes. And I ain’t talking joker and Harley Quinn type bs (that fr can be cute sometimes,) I’m talking moth and lamp type shit. I know it’s probably adorable to some of yall but it gives me the serious ick.

Speaking of the Ick, man uses the most horrendous nicknames unironocally. He doesn’t do it all the time (especially after Tanaka nearly pissed himself after hearing him trying to be tender.) like I can just hear him saying, “Hey muffin, can you grab my bag from the club room? I have to help clean up.” (Gia- joden ewwwwww stop it that’s literally so gross.)

reads you the Bible

Yall know that one comic where it’s like killer croc and his girlfriend walking around and she tells him how much she loves him and how safe he makes her feel? Yeah that’s literally yall and it’s so precious. Like just imagine walking anywhere and everywhere holding pinkies (my gay lol heart is melting) while he’s just being a blushy mess.

Noya is the main wingman, but still doesn’t know on how how you got together. His idea of friendly advice is, “QUICK BEING W PUSS AND ASK THEM OUT LIKE A MAN ASAHI😤.”

Regardless of if you are a titty owner or not, please don’t take your shirt off around him, he will literally malfunction.He will literally have an aneurysm. Like mans nosebleeds will rock him like a rocket. Like man will be in the morgue from blood loss. And we still need this man for cuddles, so no. Kill the spike not your boyfriend, can i get an amen 🙏?

He is the most precious fluffy boyfriend possible. Like he’s the sweetest of all beans. Like you could ask him to murder someone and he’lll just be like, “Yes Sweetie anything you say dear 🌸🥰🌸.” Kinda like Gojo in that one jjk scene (the I’ll murder you one)

he loves restaurant dates, but like don’t take him anywhere who only has spicy food. I love this man with all my might, but he is a serious pussy. Like my goodness has the gracious. And he won’t even say anything about it. My poor baby will just suffer in silence. So please don’t, he’s a poor baby.

This one’s for all my long hair honeys. One word. Hairties. Hairties Galore. He never has enough. And he always has them at the ready. But on the unlikely chance he doesn’t, he has no problem using your scrunchies during a game, and it’s seriously the softest marshmallow man move ever. I can not emphasize it enough.

ok this man if the favorite of all of his younger cousins. Like the little dudes love just climbing on them. He physically cannot say no to them. So, what’s something they force him to do? Watch Disney princess movies with them. He knows all their names trust. His top three definitely Jasmine, Belle and Cinderella, trust me on this.(Gia- fuck sukuna, Asahi x Cinderella for life lol) He gives the most insane Disney adult energy it’s insane. (Gia- joden, chill with the slander mate).

He is a living random fact generator. No I will not elaborate. He watches that kind of YouTube shorts. He’s so boring I swear to fuck.

(I had to Make Gia write this lol) This one is for all my pussy people. He gotta be the most worried individual on this side of the nuthouse whenever you’re bleeding. Like the second he hears your on the cycle it’s, “OMG ARE YOU OK, ARE YOU DYING? OMG MY GIRLFRIENDS DYING, HELP WE NEED TO GET YOU TO THE DOCTORS! PLEASE DONT DIE ON ME BABY! DO YOU NEED PADS, HEATING PADS, IBUPROFEN, CHOCOLATE!?ILL GET YOU THAT, THE VERY BEST BEST QUALITY-” please shut him tf up. He’s gonna have a panic attack, please calm him down,

for us non pussy personas, just imagine you got a paper-cut. He literally acts the same way.

For my final big thing, ima just give ya’ll little addicts exactly what yall came here for: Crack. (Also yes a changed some lyrics, I ain’t about to whitewash no characters)

Tanaka- EVERYBODY SAY SAUSAGE KEEP IT GOING, EGGS BACON GRITS

all- Sausage!

Noya- IMA SKINNY BITCH BUT I STILL TAKE

all- Sausage!

Bokuto- GOT A FAT ASS BUT I STILL TAKE

all- Sausage!

Oikawa- GOT A FLAT ASS BUT I STILL TAKE

all- Sausage!

Y/N- WAKE UP IN THE MORNING GOTTA EAT THAT-

all- Sausage!

Hinata- IMA RED HEAD BUT I STILL TAKE

all- Sausage!

*Literally everyone is gay in this show so I’m not including this verse*

Yachi- CUTE GIRL SWAG BUT ILL TAKE YOUR MANS

all- Sausage!

Asahi- hagsaggecgedhurdgiitg

all- Sausage!

Saiko- Big tits, and I’m thick so you know I take

all- Sausage!

Kuroo- Yeah I read but but they’re all about

All- Sausage! Sa-Sa-Sa-Sausage, Sausage

kiyoko- I like girls, can I still take sausage?

All- AYEEEEEEE

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

bro I ain’t gon lie, I had so much fun writing this, but I’m sorry I took so long Anon, I love all of yall so much, but I also am smack in the middle of exam season, and you’re boy needs his degree. If y’all love this, then feel free to ask for more, it’s free, and like and follow me. Love y’all lil freaks,

Joden (edited by Gia)